Casual Contact
by SunsetSky412
Summary: Sometimes one touch can be the key to a rescue from the fall - however Captain James Kirk would not have been an expected candidate
1. Prologue

**Casual Contact**

**Disclaimer: **Star Trek re-boot and original don't belong to me, just this story-line

**A/N: **I've spent my summer writing this, so far there are five chapters which I'm going to try and keep to a weekly basis so hopefully I can get the next chapters written - not sure how long this will be but at the moment its quite a length; I'm really excited about it though!

**P.S **It's not a slash by the way - just an awesome and intense friendship

* * *

Prologue

Vulcans are an excessively private species.

This is common knowledge – actually one of the only firm based facts known of the logical beings.

If you sat and searched through the public Starfleet Xeno Database, over a year could be spent reading through the details of biology, customs, language and even in some cases financial management of all discovered species listed tidily A-Z.

However on reaching the Vulcan subsection, the file would read this sentence;

'The Vulcan is a species of immense intellect whose foundation is formed around the process of logic with no emotional bias; little else is of public knowledge due to strict privacy beliefs although further information is revealed in chosen confidence. If greater detail is required the matter must be requested of a Vulcan although there is no guarantee an answer will be supplied or that there'll be no resulting bodily harm.'

Although another fact that wasn't necessary to learn from a record system was that physical contact was a big no-go area with Vulcans.

The beings of logic had been one of the founding species of the United Federation of Planets so there had been many decades and a lot of bruising glares or in extreme cases, hospital visits, for people to understand that touching a Vulcan in any manner, no matter how casual or subconsciously, would not make you any friends… or whatever the label for common acquaintances in their logical reasoning.

Spock had always been an anomaly to this fact.

On reflection in his later years he would put it down to the affection of his mother; growing up she would always run a hand through his hair, give a peck on his cheek, keep a gentle grip on his shoulder – touch was a normal action for the young boy and he didn't realise how different he was until he left his home to attend the Vulcan Children's Academy.

Despite his father raising him with all Vulcan traditions and customs, Spock had never fully understood the extent of the adversity to touch until an unfortunate incident on his first day which had therefore listed him as a target for the remainder of his school years.

For Spock it hadn't been something he would have thought about, a fellow student had tripped over an apparatus that had uncharacteristically been left out of its assigned spot and Spock had stepped forward to grab the boy around the waist to divert him from falling – it was a responsive action, he was simply preventing an injury.

Yet the child had shoved him away with a glare that almost disproved the Vulcan belief of not having emotions and he failed to prevent the tips of his ears flushing green as the other surrounding students looked down at him, making comments about his human nature and how he didn't belong with them, that he should return to Earth where he would perhaps at least be more tolerable.

In-admittedly this event was the first to drive his need to purge his human half; it was not due to shame for this would require an emotion, it was simply logical to wholly embrace his Vulcan heritage since that was the home planet he situated.

The issue arising from this was that when a child is brought up with particular normalities, such as physical contact and comforting touch, that need or expectance can then never completely disappear.

Spock came to this realisation on joining Starfleet Academy.

He was acutely aware of the human customs involving gestures of many degrees through person to person contact so it was logical for him to prepare to adapt to this situation and possible incidents it may present as a representing Vulcan.

However his human half was actually anticipating the chance to once again experience all these gestures he only received from his mother and since the event on his first day of school, even those were fewer as he did not wish to appear even more abnormal among his people.

But on Earth it was the normal procedure, guaranteed nobody would emit non-permitted contact with a Vulcan however as his file would classify him as half-human this information would likely spread to 85% of the Starfleet Academy in the first week – resulting in students not holding the same discipline of touch to him.

The problem became evident from the first contact; his muscles tensed, an uncomfortable sensation crawled through his limb and he barely managed to hide his flinch.

This occurred with every touch – no matter how brief.

After 78.6 hours Spock had formed a conclusion; despite his mind urging for the contact he had grown to be familiar with as a child, the events that had turned him to decide to engulf himself within the laws of Surak and be raised fully Vulcan meant that his body was adverse to such contact.

He had hoped that the uncomfortable sensation would disappear over years of shoulder pats, hand shakes, wrist tugs or elbow guides but all that occurred was he perfected the art of hiding this negative reaction to casual contact.

* * *

_Much more to come, hope you enjoy :)_


	2. Deja Vu

**Casual Contact**

**A/N: **Obviously a prologue doesn't consist of much so the weekly update thing starts from this chapter, I hope you enjoy it :)

* * *

The Enterprise had only left docks following two weeks of repair from the Nero incident three weeks prior when the Captain failed to subtly wait for Spock to finish his last analysis as Alpha shift switched off; the Vulcan had made a clear habit of being the single remainder of the prime team with desire to leave no work incomplete before retiring – which was a gratifying treat for the Beta Science Officer as it meant he could arrive fifteen minutes later than the rota.

However this day, instead of being one of the first to leave per usual – the Captain was lingering by the opposite station appearing to be reading information on his PADD, although the twenty-six glances he had taken of his First Officer giving the sign that he was in fact waiting for the Vulcan.

He and the Captain were not what was considered friends; it would be illogical to choose to presume so after only a few weeks, with the first of those involving stranding, being emotionally compromised by and strangling the man.

The sudden switch to not attend New Vulcan was purely based on where his skills would be best equipped, the unneeded presence of two forms of himself and perhaps a hint of personal preference.

However as a Vulcan he could not lie and say his elder self's parting words along with the teamwork and actions shown during the world's crisis didn't drive a hint of curiosity about Captain James T. Kirk that would be interesting to observe.

Spock was aware of the gaze on his back but he was not one to allow actions such as clear facts of being waited for derail him from his work…

Signing out and leaving a half completed report he walked to the lift – not needing to turn around to know that the Captain had hurriedly dropped his PADD at the movement and slid through the closing doors.

"Spock, good you're finished," The man grinned, holding onto the bar, "Deck 5."

The Vulcan decided to not correct the statement by admitting his work was in fact not completed, or add his own voice command for a destination as it was obvious the Captain required something of him, "Was there a purpose for you awaiting my conclusion of work sir?"

Jim raised a hand to rub the back of his neck, "I thought I was doing well at being subtle."

"I believe the failing factor was multiple directions of your gaze to my station rather than the possessed PADD."

"Well I didn't want you to ninja off when I wasn't looking."

Spock raised an eyebrow at the remark, "Vulcans do not practice the occupation of a 'ninja' in our culture therefore it would not be possible for me to leave in such a manner."

Laughing Jim shook his head, "And Bones calls you a humourless robot – anyway, yes I did want to talk to you, mind if we go to my quarters?"

The Vulcan titled his head as an agreement and followed his Captain from the lift; he was actually trying to quell his surprise at the man's response to his statement – since arriving on Earth he had been trying to cultivate the use of sarcasm and humour which seemed to be strongly intertwined in the Humans mannerisms and despite having assumed he'd grasped it would always have any attempts responded to by the recipient re-explaining what they had meant.

Nobody had ever distinguished his jokes before.

Spock was aware of the position of his superior's quarters since they were placed directly next to his own with a shared bathroom; not that he would ever use this door to enter the room as that would be highly disrespectful – however he had yet to visit the Captain's domain.

"Sorry about the mess," Jim began, indicating to the boxes of various personal items stacked throughout the space, "I haven't had a chance to properly move in yet."

"I believed it to be your Yeoman's duty to situate your belongings," He hadn't done this but he was a being who required significantly less sleep than his colleague meaning he'd had the time to organise his effects during the period a human would use to rest – currently there wasn't any other available time to spend on such a task due to the extent of work being sent to the Starship with a new Captain under scrutinising eyes.

Lifting a box off his desk to clear space for them to sit, Jim collapsed into his chair and gave a small shrug, "I know – but I'm not sure how I feel about a stranger rifling through my stuff, I mean collectively these things make up my entire life since I didn't want to risk leaving something behind that I would suddenly realise I wanted while we're out in space for a year; so I just told her to leave it."

"I – believe I understand," Spock admitted, he too would not be comfortable with the thought of an unknown acquaintance handling some of his belongings – the few possessions of his mother's especially.

A soft smile breezed Jim's face as if he knew along what lines his First Officer had been thinking but he didn't comment; with an indication to the chair opposite the Vulcan took the offered seat as the man leant back to reach for a bottle of his personal wine, "Drink?"

Spock had opened his mouth to decline the alcoholic beverage as he was not partial to the sharp taste when the Captain pre-interrupted him, "Don't worry I know you're not one for my kind of drink – but I have some mighty fine tea available," Bringing out a jar of tea leaves to prove so, which was a surprising item for someone to have managed to get their hands on.

"Vulcans do not worry," He replied with a quirk of his eyebrow.

Once again Jim chuckled at the comment and took it for a yes, which correctly it was and prepared the two drinks, "Vulcans seem to not do a lot of things."

"Yet our species still manage to accomplish more than yours," The reply slipped before Spock could control it; teasing was another human trait he had observed over the years however his practices of this one had often ended in near physical assault as his monotone speech pattern would never correctly portray his intent.

But instead of a defensive outburst which he had come to expect, the Captain simply smirked, "Hey you guys have double the life span to get stuff done."

"Indeed, I admit there may be a slight imbalance of circumstance," He returned, having to supress an upwards twitch of his lip; he could not remember being in an atmosphere that had relaxed him to this extent before – it was rather disconcerting.

Vying back to the original purpose of being here Spock continued, "Although Captain, I must divulge I am curious as to what you required of me that could not be inquired during our shift."

"Curiosity Commander?"

"A term raised from scientific principles therefore not related to emotions."

"But of course," Jim nodded, not attempting to hide the humour in his eyes, however this glint quickly shut off as the man placed down his glass and re-adjusted to lean forward in his chair, "Anyway – I waited to speak here because my question, well more of a general topic, is of a more personal nature."

The Vulcan stiffened by a minuscule at the revelation but unlike usual cases of hearing those two words, he did not make to leave the room, but simply inclined his head as a sign for the Captain to proceed with his thoughts.

"The thing is – I'm well aware that Vulcans have a big no-go on touch," He paused as if to check that he wasn't about to get punched for his topic, "But even though I know you let people casually touch you, whether because you're doing that thing of accommodating other people's needs above your own or you just generally don't mind I don't know – I wanted to… well I'm not sure if permissions the word, but in a way I guess ask permission to touch you."

Spock's eyebrow shot up at the question and Jim was quick to hold his hands up in defence.

"Not like that! Man that didn't sound so wrong in my head – it's just as you've gathered I'm a very tactile person and however hard I may try there's no way I'd always be able to catch myself before clapping you on the shoulder or taking your elbow to lead you somewhere," He shrugged with that innocent boyish grin that often got him into trouble, "I just don't want to make you feel uncomfortable – so if you're really not cool with the whole touch thing I will try doubly as hard to keep tabs on my actions for you."

The Vulcan found he could not take his gaze from his Captain's as he could not quite believe the sincerity of the man's words – or the casualness in which he spoke them, a tone suggesting he assumed that his First Officer had sat through many a conversation such as this with people requesting where his personal boundaries lay.

And this was why Spock was struck with such… surprise; this sudden question opened the realisation that since arriving on Earth many years prior nobody he'd become acquainted with had ever expression a query in his opinion or desire on the issue of touch.

Landing on the planet the Half Vulcan had come to the conclusion that as he was a guest of Earth, he should allow adjustment to the peoples culture – he had not been fully disposed to touch as it had been a common occurrence as a very young child and though he wouldn't have admitted it, a small section of him was perhaps mildly excited about the opportunity of regaining that norm of physical contact since judgement from his fellow peers would not be subjected in Starfleet since they were not present and it would simply be him mingling with human culture.

However within a few hours he had discovered that diverting to his Vulcan heritage after that first negative experience with his classmates had left its mark.

Spock was not adverse to the idea of participating in casual touch as was usual between acquaintances and peers, yet each time a hand clasped his arm or a student bumped a leg against his own a sharp tension would jolt in his muscles and he could not resist the response of flinching.

Clearly although his mind may have human qualities, his body was fully Vulcan and he could not feel comfortable sharing contact.

Throughout the years at the Academy he progressed in controlling his reaction – no longer did he flinch, or even show any sign of discomfort at being touched; but that didn't stop the crawling sensation with each small incident.

This thought process caused a fifth of a second hesitation in answering the Captain's question, logically it was an opportunity to have one less person causing him discomfort in his interactions – but also it would cause much distraction and extra effort on his colleagues part to control his tactile nature; he dealt with contact every day, it would only be a little more.

"You need not concern yourself Captain – my years on your planet have adjusted me to the physical culture of humans so I have adapted to these circumstances."

The grin and dismissal Spock had been expecting from his reply did not arrive, instead a light dip shaped Jim's eyebrows and he shuffled forward to rest his arms on the table, "See that sounded like you telling me you weren't comfortable with all the casual touching."

Spock gave a returning tilt of his head, "I assure you those were not the words I spoke."

"But they were the ones you were thinking," Jim nipped, ignoring the barely visible hint of shock in the Vulcan's eyes, "Look – I know we're not really friends, I mean a couple of weeks ago you had me in a choke hold against the helm – but we do make a good team, which I know you agree with since you came back to join the crew so I think that's a good basis for a friendship in the future."

"However that's beside the point – the point is that as my First Officer we're going to be working very closely together and I'm probably going to be the person you see the most; so I don't want you feeling weird or uncomfortable by my actions – so no touching, that's fine, I can do that."

Now sporting the grin Jim chugged the remainder of his drink and slammed it down with a loud sigh of satisfaction, "Cool, see our communications getting better by the minute – anyway this is where I'm going to have to kick you out sorry, unless you want to stay here without me, which is actually fine by the way – with the shared bathroom its basically one giant room."

Hovering a hand over Spock's barely drunken tea the Vulcan nodded to the unasked question and Jim picked it up to place it with his empty glass in the washing chute; responding to the man's request he rose from his chair in preparation to leave – however he suddenly found his mouth moving with unplanned words.

"Captain?"

Jim turned back, raising his own eyebrow.

"In contradiction to your theory," The Vulcan seemed to take a small portion of extra effort to add, "Which was correct – I… would not be adverse to your casual contact."

There was a small pause, which Spock was just about to fill with an apology and hasty exit when the man's face broke out a staggering grin, "Really? Man that's great – I mean, you know it's…"

Shaking his head he chuckled at himself and reconnected their gaze with a soft quality, "Thanks."

The Vulcan gave a light nod to the gratitude although he thought it highly illogical for the Captain to be expressing such sentiments when the original question had been to accommodate the Vulcan's heritage – although on further analysis it was evident that his acceptance of touch put less pressure on the man as he need not watch his own actions as strictly.

Spock's answer had not been planned, a very rare occurrence – but in retrospect it had been the most logical path… his subconscious must have seen this; as of course he wasn't capable of emotional responses.

"Well I said I'd meet Bones in the rec," Jim announced, ending the topic, "You want to come?"

"I believe there are more beneficial activities I could partake in than acquainting with Doctor McCoy."

He laughed at the dead-panned tone, "You know your expression manages to become even more judgmental when referring to the good doctor."

"I assure you my facial muscles take no such effort."

"You're cold Mr Spock – besides I guess your muscles are too busy dealing with those eyebrows."

In response the Vulcan raised one of the said brows whilst being unable to regress the slight twitch of the corner of his mouth.

"Just watch the wind doesn't change direction," Jim replied still laughing "We don't need you stuck in a constant demeaning look."

"I do not see how the position of the wind would have an impact on my expression," Spock tilted his head; he had not come across that phrase before.

Jim smirked at the Vulcan's subtle confusion, "Don't worry about it – luckily there's no wind on a Starship." And he slapped a hand on his First Officer's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze before disappearing through the 'swoosh' of the door.

Spock had seen the hand coming, he had known what the intended contact was going to be – his many years on Earth had taught him that it was a common gesture between acquaintances as well as a personal favourite of the Captains; but although he had been a recipient of such contact large quantities of times the tension of muscles signalling unease even if he wanted to welcome the touch was always present.

Which was why a spurt of shock ran through him when the man's hand made contact and it felt entirely comfortable – it was the first time since his mother that he had been touched and his body had not rejected the action.

Turning his head to where his colleague had just exited a brief flash of curiosity lit in his eyes; had he finally overcome his heritage to accept contact?

A beep of the Captain's conn interrupted his contemplation and he reflexively straightened, returning to his neutral professional mannerism to walk forward and respond to the message since it would be more efficient than the caller having to continue conning the many other areas the man could be accommodating to find him.

Lt. Andrews, the acting Captain during the Beta shift appeared on the screen, "Captain we… oh, Commander," The confusion evident, "Um, is the Captain there sir?"

"He is not, however he is also presently unavailable – perhaps I could be of assistance instead Lieutenant."

It was clear the man wanted to enquire as to why the Vulcan was hanging out in the Captain's room on his own but Spock's tone never left room for crew to brave asking such questions, "Of course sir, the plant we picked up from that brief stop on Tandar Prime seems to be having a reaction to our artificial chemicals in the air – apparently its destroying the lab."

"I will see to it Lieutenant, Spock out," He ended the stream preventing the man from further comment.

The Vulcan exited the quarters immediately, heading for the Botany Lab; he had planned to have some time of meditation or perhaps find Nyota, however the Captain had hardly rested since forcibly boarding the ship before the Narada incident – it was only logical as his First Officer that he handled this situation to allow the man a break.

* * *

Jim took a second to glare at the colourful cubes on his plate, wondering if the intensity of his gaze could turn them into an actual steak rather than a replication of taste alone – he wanted the texture, the smell and the force you had to put behind each cut.

Alas no change occurred so he sighed in defeat and made his way to the table Bones and Scotty occupied.

"Man I feel like I haven't eaten in days," He groaned through the mouthful he attacked even before fully touching the chair.

"That better be a turn of phrase" Bones gruffed as his hand unconsciously twitched to the medi-scanner on his waist, "Cause if you're doing that already I'm going to attach a permanent IV to your arm with all the liquid nutrients."

"That'd be very impractical with my particular job and all."

"I'd find a way so you'd still be able to gallivant around your ship."

"What if I need to sort something out in one of the Jefferies tubes?"

"I don't give a damn about your tubes."

Jim chuffed and paused mid-bite, pointing his fork towards the glaring Scotsman, "You just fell onto thin ice Bones."

"Yeah but those things aren't technically engineering," The doctor argued.

At this Jim choked back a laugh, causing a coughing fit as some food went down his air tunnel and he ducked his head; not wanting to get caught in the coming rant.

"Not part of engineering!" Scotty launched, slamming his utensils on the table to have use of his hands for dramatic emphasis, "Now see here laddie– those _tubes _are the main par' of this whole here ship! Yer want to go sayin' they're not important is an outrage – hows bout I come to yer bay and take away all the devices, would yer say those aren't technically part of the place? Yer ain't got the equipment then all yer got is an empty room! Yer could be owing those tubes yer life, yer stupid –"

"Okay! I think he gets it," Jim quickly interceded by placing an arm across the table before the man started burning the room's ears with his colourful language, "He is right though – most of the controls lie in those things."

"Says the guy who uses them as his personal playground," Bones returned with a pointed look to draw the Scotsman's attention from himself; everyone loved Scotty with his easy-going attitude and bubbly face but although they'd only been aboard a few weeks people had quickly learnt you didn't want to stick around if you mistakenly insulted the ship.

"I don't," Came the muffled reply which sprayed a bit of half-chewed food on the table; seeing the engineer switched his glare he gulped down the bite and repeated in a slightly higher pitch, "I don't!"

"Aye - Capt'n or not I'd set yer quarters temperature at full heat for a week if yer did."

"Why does everyone keep threatening me – do you people not understand I'm a Starship Captain? I could have you thrown in the brig!" Waiting for Scotty to take a bite of his meal leaving him unable to speak, Jim leant over to the doctor and loudly whispered, "That said, I've been thinking about using the wiring room to create an acrobatic practice area."

He narrowly ducked to miss the cup that flew at his head, although that didn't mean that the liquid within also cleanly passed over and he was left with a fresh 'just been swimming' hairstyle.

The roars of his two friends did not help his dignity levels which may have already been lowered by the child-like pout settled on his features.

"Why's he here again? I thought this was our dinner date," Jim grumbled as he threw a steak cube at the engineer with little effect since the man just allowed it to hit him before proceeding to eat it with a smug wink.

"Because StarKid, you now have even worse time management issues than in the Academy," Bones replied, "I'm not going to eat by myself like the old grandpa outcast because you're running around doing jobs that aren't yours."

Shaking his wet locks in a dog imitation Jim argued, "I had to talk to Spock about something," He snatched the jumper on the back of the doctor's seat and scrubbed his hair, "And that is not your nickname for me."

"You're still planning on trying to make friends with that hobgoblin? And you never listened to my year worth of complaints about the name Bones so the fact that you don't want it means you're definitely having it."

"Yer don't need to worry Capt'n – I won't be callin' yer that," Scotty cut in with a lovely view of his chewed food.

"Your accent makes his title a nickname in itself," The doctor exclaimed, then he dropped his tone, "But really – that robot doesn't do friends, who knows how Nyota puts up with him and even if he did have friends, why on earth would you think that the two guys who tried to kill each other would have any potential?"

Jim leant back with his trade-mark grin and stretched out his arms, "One can't predict the paths of the universe," He snapped a finger in Scotty's direction, "And I change my earlier statement – what are _you_ doing here Bones? Clearly this should be mine and the engineers date."

"I ain't no rebound," The Scotsman drawled, enjoying par-taking in the dual topic conversation; it was a tactic some of the crew had begun to notice to ensure that other people who were with the old friends wouldn't feel excluded or as if they didn't have the right to join in with the flow.

This had been arising as an issue from quite early on for some crew members as most people had close friends or groups from the Academy so were in that place where they would subconsciously leave strangers on the fringes during recreational periods, so the portion of the crew who hadn't had friends assigned to the Enterprise or in some tragic cases had lost all friends during the battle with Nero were left feeling like outsiders.

Hence why Jim made sure that if he was ever discussing a topic with Bones or another of his close friends that another colleague may not feel comfortable commenting on – he would attach it to something of pointless humour so they could involve in that bit instead.

Not that this applied to Scotty, he would insert himself into a classified conference between the Admirals if he had something to say – but a tactic kind of becomes a constant after excessive practice.

"McCoy's gotta point though – Mr Spock's great and all but his pa's not gonna be 'round all the time to call off the choke hold."

"See it's not only me coming at you with sensible thinking," The doctor added, gesturing the engineer as if ensuring that his friend noticed that someone had agreed with him "And sprouting off a Chinese fortune cookie is not an answer."

Jim rolled his eyes at the man's persistence, "Spock isn't a creature with only a kill or be clever setting; he jokes for goodness sake! I even had proof today."

He'd actually been more excited about the Vulcan's joking mannerism than he had let on earlier – not wanting to make the Commander think about what he was participating with human banter and suddenly close off.

Since their first couple of interactions Jim had been ninety-nine percent positive that a large amount of Spock's replies to peoples topics and queries had been either sarcastic quips or openings to a round of non-spiting insults and jokes – so it was gratifying to take a moment to have a proper look; he should have pulled the Vulcan aside earlier.

"No he doesn't," Bones interceded, shifting to a more profile view of his friend, "He says a normal sentence in that high-and-mighty tone and then you chuckle for no reason."

"One day you'll notice his jokes," Jim continued with a disregard for the man's words, "And from that day I will hold this conversation over your head – along with collecting the fifty credits you will have lost."

"What are you – I haven't made any bet."

"So you're saying you think Spock does have humour?"

"That hobgoblin has nothing of the sort!"

"Then you're prepared to put money on that."

"Fine!" Bones snapped, glaring at the young man's cocky grin, "I'll take your stupid bet – but if I'm getting dragged into this then so should Scotty!"

"Nay I'm simply an innocent bystander," The engineer snorted, nobody could get McCoy as riled as the Captain – he was the epitome of a pestering little brother, "Also I'd be savin' me creds for the next case of whiskey when this un runs out."

This broke the topic as the two men laughed at their friend's failure to break away from the Scottish stereotype and began teasing him for his liquor obsession.

* * *

Jim slumped into his quarters a few hours later, scowling at the irritating 'swosh' of the doors – he bet the programmed noise was a product of some technician's love-brawl with a partner who'd left them to go and explore space; so he didn't see why the rest of them had to suffer as well.

Collapsing on the box hidden bed he risked a glance at the clock and groaned at the sight; he only had four of his nine hour break left – it was the main curse of being a young and sociable Captain, everyone wanted to chat with you.

Still he forced himself off the bed to stumble into the bathroom; though sleeping in your uniform made for beautiful convenience in an exhausted state it only made your body hate you in the morning.

As he grabbed his tooth-cleansing tablet his eyes flicked past the opposite door which led to his First Officer's room but they quickly slid back, _I didn't see him in the rec, has he actually eaten anything?_

Jim's eyebrows tilted in a slight dent, although they'd only been on the ship for three weeks the Vulcan's workaholic tendency had been established in the first shift – and the whole our people can survive extended lengths of time with no food or sleep didn't cut as an excuse in his book.

Despite the fact Spock would probably rather he used the main door than the adjoining bathroom even after the whole casual contact conversation, he punched in the code which they both had to know for health regulations – he really didn't see any big deal with using the door, it was much simpler; plus if the Vulcan had accepted the touch thing he really couldn't complain.

"Hey Spock?" He whispered, wary that the half-human may be in meditation state.

No answer came – so he stepped into the room and glanced around; it was very much as expected, all prim and pristine with every article correctly situated on an appropriate shelf and all most likely precisely the same width from each other, however it was definitely quite lacking of one First Officer.

"Well let's hope you're where I think you are," Jim sighed with a light side smirk, hoping the absence was due to taking some overdue time with Uhura rather than because he was holed up working somewhere.

Shaking his head he made a move to leave, but something caught his eye on the shelf which was in eye-line to the bed – moving closer he saw it was a picture frame holding a photo of a beautiful human woman laughing, her happiness seeming to be intensified by the burning red sky behind, resting her chin on top of a small Vulcan child's head secure in her arms whose large brown eyes were pulled upwards trying to watch her face.

"No way," He whispered as his brain kicked into who he must be looking at; it was a young Spock, maybe five or six, but what was surprising to see was that he was actually smiling! Not one of those lip quirks he sometimes couldn't hold back but an actual smile – guaranteed it was only a small one, nothing ranging to a beam or grin but still it was quite something to see that at one point the half-human seemed to accept the fact he _was_ half-human.

Even though he knew nobody was in the room, Jim still did the whole guilty check over the shoulder before he reached out a hand to pick up the photo for a closer look.

However the second his finger brushed the glass a sharp beeping burst through the silence causing the man to leap back as he he'd been burnt – swinging his gaze around like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

The conn continued beeping and Jim let out a breath as he realised what had startled him; but then he paused for a second – really he should leave it, whatever it was would be Spock's business and he didn't want to intrude on the Vulcan's work – yet also he didn't like the idea of the Commander getting conned elsewhere and being dragged away from his recreational time when he only had four hours left.

Jim hit the answer button.

"Sorry Commander, didn't know if you'd be finished but –" Lt. Andrews looked up from his PADD to the screen and faltered on seeing someone without pointed ears, "Um, hello Captain."

"Hey Jack, what can I help you with?" Jim asked, not addressing why he was in Spock's room at such a random hour.

The Lieutenant frowned, opened his mouth and paused, and then asked, "Have you and the Commander switched rooms?"

"No," Jim replied, "But Spock's not here right now – can I help you with something?"

Andrews simply blinked at him, then shook his head and Jim thought he heard a mutter of 'talk about déjà vu' but suddenly the man was giving a request, "Well a commands just come in from Starfleet asking for a full report on the ship's schedule – as in shifts, hours for breaks, numbers of crew in sections at one time, that kind of thing… and they want it by tomorrow."

Jim groaned at the news, he knew the Admirals were going to be checking up on him more because of his age but really – did they think he would just change the formatted schedule every Starship has used for decades just for the sake of it?

He ran a hand through his hair, crew time-tabling was normally down to the First Officer and then just signed off by the Captain but he and Spock seemed to have more of a partnership way about things without even discussing it – the Vulcan had simply sat by him in the conference room and they'd planned out the whole thing together, it really was a more sensible way about doing things.

Plus it meant Spock got a lucky day since yes Jim could write up the needed report because unlike other Captains he did know all the details, "Yeah I can do that – always the bringer of good news Jack."

The man smirked, "Sorry, I would say you could call me and give me a mundane task when you're back on shift but I want sleep – so don't."

"Lazy as they get, enjoy the chair while it lasts – the King's coming to reclaim it in a few," He winked, "Kirk out."

Once again left in silence his shoulders sagged, _guess I won't be getting any sleep then._

* * *

_Thanks for reading, drop a review if you can :) _


	3. Password

**Casual Contact**

**A/N:** Sorry this is a day late update - my internet suddenly stopped working last night, it was not a fun time; but here's the next chapter for you :)

* * *

It was twenty-two minutes before the next Alpha shift and Spock had only just left the Botany lab; unfortunately on trying to sedate the thrashing plant the injection of more unknown chemicals instead increased its damage levels and all the following hours had been spent with them attempting to lock it in an isolated chamber – the forty-eight vines of the plant had not made this easy.

So he was briefly by-stopping to his quarters to change his uniform due to the plants aggressiveness; though to every other member of the ship the material would seem perfectly crisp and presentable, in his standards he felt as if he were walking around in those human jeans and hoodies.

The doors slid opened on recognising the DNA structure of the being approaching the room, allowing Spock to enter and…

Freeze.

Because there was already someone in his quarters – and it wasn't Nyota who was the only other person programmed to be recognised with automatic access.

"Captain –"

Jim jerked awake at the deep tone, his head snapping up at a speed that may have caused a bit of whiplash; turning from the computer screen he offered the Vulcan a sheepish smile, "Uh hey Spock – fancy seeing you here."

An eyebrow arched at the comment, "Indeed… for it is rare for me to be entering my own quarters."

"Wait, your quarters?," He glanced around at the scattered timetables and notes on the desk, he'd meant to get the report done and leave well before there was a chance of his First Officer returning – but it seemed he'd fallen asleep, "Huh well look at that," His face broke into astounded disbelief, "This isn't my room! Man I'm always getting lost on this ship – I should carry a map with me or something."

If Spock was prone to rolling his eyes, he would be doing so now, however instead he replied with an underlying tad of exasperation, "Captain, despite my frequent doubts, you are not intellectually incapable – therefore I am aware you do know as to where you are so I feel I may enquire as to why you are in my quarters."

"Well you see," He sighed and then it switched to a frown and he pointed an accusing finger, "Hey did you just say you often think I'm stupid?"

Spock just held his gaze, in truth the Vulcan was actually quite surprised by how unobtrusive he found this situation but that didn't mean he wasn't going to know why he had an uninvited visitor.

Jim broke the eye contact first and shrugged, at least he'd tried for the topic change tactic, "I was writing a report."

"Is your computer currently inoperable?"

"Um… no."

"Have you currently been blocked access to your quarters?"

"No – although my boxes are kind of blocking a third of the door."

"Is my computer the only one operable on the ship at this moment?"

"Well now that I can't answer, how could I know the status of every single computer at this precise second – it's not logical."

Spock had now stepped further into the room so the doors had closed behind him, "So why is it necessary to be writing this report in my quarters?"

He'd lost, Jim groaned and threw his hands in the air, "Because technically it's a report you should be doing meaning that it has to be done on your computer so the correct data signature is on it and the Admiral's don't know it wasn't really you who wrote it."

Now the other eyebrow also twitched, "I was not aware I had a report to complete."

"Um, no – there was a call on your conn, and I kind of just, well," Jim mumbled off shrugging his shoulders, he really hadn't wanted to end up discussing this – it was supposed to just be one of those things you did and then nobody had to know about it, "I guessed you were resting or something, no point dragging you to jump for the Admiral's keeping eyes on me when I knew all the info and was already here."

Spock tilted his head, quite fascinated by the observation that the Captain had unknowingly done exactly the same thing as what had resulted in him fighting with a plant for five hours for the same reasons – also even he couldn't miss the irony that both of their actions to try and allow the other rest had ended up with them both simply doing the opposites work.

"You should not feel obliged to assist my workload Captain, your rest is important," Because even though the man's actions had been found out that didn't mean Spock was going to admit he had done the same.

"Yeah but so is yours," Jim replied as he ran his fingers through his hair, if it was in attempt to tidy the wild nest, he was not achieving it, "And you have definitely been working more than me during our breaks so far."

The Vulcan could not object to this statement, so he instead moved to his wardrobe to collect the change of uniform he'd come for; also he was aware if he attempted to once again explain that his people did not require the same levels of rest as humans it would be met with a disregarding look per usual.

"Anyway I've only got a couple more lines left to do, I'm telling you I don't know who actually sits and reads through these things because I'm bored enough writing it," Jim continued, the second half of the sentence being muffled as Spock closed the bathroom door but his sharp hearing still being able to hear the man's tangent words, "Maybe I should end it with a rhyme, just make it a bit more interesting for the poor guy – what rhymes with itineraries? Huh, actually maybe that wouldn't work, ah well, guess the reader will just have to deal with another boring conclusion instead."

In the privacy of the bathroom Spock allowed his lips curve into an amused smile at the Captain's rambling, he was quite assured it was a habit the man was not always aware he was doing, since during a few shifts so far his Vulcan hearing has picked up very odd topics being mumbled under the man's breath as he's sat in the chair filling in a sheet on the PADD – although he wouldn't admit it, the one-sided conversation did make for mild entertainment to listen to on the bridge; especially as he was the only one who could hear it.

"Hey Spock I need you to type in your password – I got to send this from your account," Jim turned to ask the closed door.

Mid-way through taking his used shirt off the Vulcan replied, "It is Grayson2198 – with a pie symbol for the letter 'y'."

It wasn't until after he spoke the words a chill crept through his skin, just speaking his mother's maiden name and birth year suddenly found him freezing, holding his new shirt in his hands – he had caught his own gaze in the mirror and although he wanted to break away from the pain beginning to crawl its way from the depths it had been pushed he found that he could not. He could still see his mother's hand stretched out for him to hold, a loving gesture she had shown all the time when he was a child to lead him around their garden or simply let him know she was there, but one that he'd last seen as a desperate reach – a silent cry he had failed to fulfil for her.

"Man you didn't need to _tell_ me it," Jim's voice snapped through the Vulcan's haze and he found himself able to move again, but avoiding meeting his own eyes in the glass, "You do know the whole point of passwords is for them to be _secret_?"

Spock tugged the end of his shirt and smoothed it out a third time before re-entering the room to the Captain who was looking at him with amusement.

"I considered that if this situation of you completing work of mine that you are not required to continues, it is simply more logical for you to know the password rather than have to request it of me each time."

Jim laughed at the response, shaking his head as he typed it in and sent the report, "You know if I didn't know any better, I'd think you wanted me to do more of your assignments – are you digressing into a slacker Mr Spock?" He spun around on the chair with a grin on his face.

"I do not believe I could allow my reputation to be lowered to such a degree if your work was being thought of as mine," His internal alarm suddenly went off and he broke from the human joking, his back straightening on instinct, "Captain we have 6.4 minutes until our shift begins."

Jim noticed Spock's mannerism switch before he even announced the time, however his own reaction was quite opposite as he slid down further in the chair and pressed his palms into his eyes, "Right, yes – well I guess we better be off."

Jumping off the chair he shook his body out, dragging out the little energy he had left and then plastering a load of the fake stuff on top; he smirked at the 'what on earth' vibe he was getting from Spock's expression.

Following the Captain down the hall the Vulcan passed a glance over the man's attire, it was the same uniform he'd been wearing yesterday – quite askew and his hair still looked like it had been dragged through a bush; he couldn't help but enquire, "Are you confident that you are presentable for the bridge Captain?"

Jim grinned at him as the lift began to ascend to the quick voice command, "That's why I got you," He lightly slapped the Vulcan's shoulder, "You do the neat and tidy bit so much that it means people won't notice if I'm a bit of a mess – we're basically balancing each other out."

Still no tension pulsed through him at the brief touch; a strong part of Spock had considered the earlier occurrence to simply be an anomaly – apparently he had been incorrect.

He stepped out to approach his station but paused as his gaze automatically flicked to Nyota… perhaps his other previous thought was correct and he had somehow fully overcome his body's aversion to contact.

"I trust you slept well," He positioned himself by her chair, lowering his voice to ensure nobody else could hear their conversation; he did not usually talk to Nyota on the bridge unless it was about work, it would not be professional - however at this moment he needed to test his hypothesis.

The young woman looked quite surprised at the comment as she glanced up from her screen, but mostly pleased, "I did thank you, although I was searching for you – we didn't have a chance to hang out together."

She placed a hand on his wrist that was hidden by her chair; it had been this action his purpose for coming over had been – from the day they had started a romantic arrangement she had seemed to have the belief that this meant she needed to touch him more; he would correct her but from witnessing many other human interactions he was unsure if he could achieve this without upsetting her.

The second he felt the pressure of her palm there was no natural sensation, no comfortable feeling as when his mother used to touch him or apparently now also the Captain; just the familiar tense muscles, crawling skin and desire to flinch away – not that any of this was displayed on his exterior.

"I apologise, I had a situation that required my assistance," He subtly shifted so that her hand fell from its position, normally he would allow the contact to remain despite his body rejecting it but it seemed that since he had recently been exposed to comfortable contact it made the crawling sensation that much stronger, "Although I do not believe hanging off an item would not have been the best activity if you had found me."

Nyota gave him that smile for whenever she thought he didn't understand a human expression, "No – it just means we could have spent time together."

Spock could not help the slice of disappointment when the young woman once again failed to pick up on his human teasing; after a year he had hoped this would have changed.

But he did not try to explain, instead as usual gave a nod as if thanking her for the explanation, "Indeed, perhaps later – however I must attend to my own station now."

She raised a couple of fingers in farewell as he moved away.

"Hey Spock you left your PADD over here," Jim called across without raising his head as he typed on his on device with one hand, the other holding the spoken item in the air.

Spock diverted and stepped over to retrieve the machine, however on doing so he could not resist one more experiment so placed a hand on the man's shoulder as he extracted the item from his hand, "Thank you Captain."

Still the same comfortable sense.

Jim's face was hidden as he was looking down but a brief smile emerged when he felt the pressure – and Bones said Spock would never be his friend; looked like they were on the right path to him.

"Try not to clutter my area," He replied, handing his own PADD to a passing Yeoman.

Finally taking a seat at his own station Spock returned, "Considering your attire I believe it would not make a substantial difference."

Jim smirked but did not make further comment knowing that although he could get the Vulcan to joke with him it didn't mean he wasn't still a workaholic, so he left him to do whatever it was he had to do.

* * *

A few hours later Jim's boredom levels had risen to counting the number of buttons in eye-line to his chair; the fact that the duration of many of his periods sitting on the bridge involved not doing anything was probably what gave people the impression that he was a lazing slacker when it didn't come to being action man – an opinion Uhura held in high regard.

However it was actually because he had a curse of over-efficiency, meaning any reports, inspections or other paperwork related items he was given were completed immediately; even if that meant not sleeping for the nine hours he was due.

This meant that when the time came to sit on the bridge, he had nothing to do…

He was aware it wasn't the smartest way to operate.

Blinking as his eyes started to droop again Jim glanced around, everyone else was engrossed in something – nobody else seemed to suffer the over-efficiency bug… although, flicking a gaze at Spock he frowned; the Vulcan was _always_ working, how did he find so much to do?

But then he officially had two jobs – and big ones at that.

Sighing he wondered if Scotty would have anything for him to do in engineering, maybe fix up a warp nacelle, he knew there were a few busted ones lying around in storage areas.

Uhura's voice interrupted his thought, "I have an incoming transmission from Starfleet command Captain."

He turned to see her with one hand on her head-piece and the other awaiting to hit the receive button, throwing her a wide smile because _finally_ he'd have something to do he replied, "Put it on-screen."

The rest of the bridge stopped their activity at the command and looked up to the main screen expectantly, because really you couldn't pretend you weren't listening when a giant video of an Admiral's head was placed right in your face.

Per usual it was Admiral Pike who appeared on screen, he was always handed the task of communicating orders to the young Captain because he was the only one who didn't want to kill the man for all the smart remarks or questions he threw back rather than simply accepting the command; or he was just the best at hiding this urge.

"Hey Chris! How are things at the base? You missing me already – don't worry, I to, also miss you," Jim smirked, enjoying the exasperation that donned his father-figures face at his lack of formality.

"Kirk," The officer sighed, "Can you at least try to behave?"

"Sorry Admiral Pike sir," Jim replied, but the way he said the title didn't do anything to make it sound formal, "So can we do something for you or did you just stop off to chat? Because I tell you Chekov has just learnt about all the Russian ancestries of this ship and it is some fascinating stuff."

The kid whipped up at the Captain's words, beaming at being mentioned by the man he was currently in an unhealthy stage of hero-worship with – the rest of the bridge rolled their eyes good naturedly; very quickly they had learnt that their youngest member had a habit of swearing everything was invented in his home country, so they'd all had the lecture of the Russian Enterprise.

Pike faltered under the big brown eyes staring up at him and he managed to break the gaze of the seventeen year-old, "Uh… I'm sure that all very interesting – but actually I have an order for you," Glancing back to the kid who looked slightly deflated he offered a weak smile, "Perhaps some other time."

Jim chuckled as Sulu patted the young boy's shoulder, pretty sure he heard the mutter, 'Don't conn the man in the middle of the night' and threw the kid a wink before turning back to Pike, "So where we flying off to then?"

"Well I am aware this may not seem as the most exciting first mission," He began, his tone suggesting he was aware that the young Captain may not be too happy with the news, "But it's the sixty year mark so we need to go and re-sign the Federation Agreement with the Kandrians –"

To be fair it wasn't only Jim who groaned at the news, however he was the only crew member who allowed the Admiral to notice his frustration, "You're sending us for the team hug event?"

The Kandrian's were a Terran origin species based on Kandra; part of their culture was that they were big on trust and honesty – privacy wasn't actually a concept for them, they shared everything with one another. This meant that when they joined the Federation one of their clauses was that the contract was re-signed every 60 years to ensure good intentions and relations were still strong between the two parties.

"No I'm sending you to ensure firm relations with loyal friends whose cultural tradition has the right to be respected and followed," You could almost picture the book Pike had memorised that sentence from.

Jim smirked, "You mean they have medical advances that they'll share with us so we need to play along with their game of flowers and sitting braiding each other's hair."

It wasn't that he didn't like the Kandrian's, from the information he'd read and experiences he had heard from others they were some of the nicest people you could meet; he just wasn't too happy about their whole caring-and-sharing front, Jim enjoyed his privacy and didn't really want to spend some dinners with a species who may start prodding him to talk and then get offended if he doesn't hence ruin the whole contract and get his Captain title taken from him only a couple of weeks after receiving it.

He may have a habit of over-analysing the worse scenarios for situations.

Pike seemed to understand what the young man was worrying about, "Calm yourself – just because they keep no secrets doesn't mean they'll get upset if you don't do the same."

"Indeed," Jim managed not to jump at the sudden added voice and he looked up to Spock who had suddenly appeared at his shoulder, a position he had been making a habit of taking, "Over recent decades the Kandrian's decided they had built enough trust with the Federation for some of them to visit other planets under the same title, mainly Earth, and through these events have come to understand that where they do not use the concept of privacy it holds offence to demand the same of others who do not follow their traditions. Therefore dis-similar to earlier re-signings of the contract leaving Starfleet Officers feeling embarrassed or upset by the forced requests to speak of private matters, these meetings should hold higher appropriate boundaries for our culture rather than us having to submit fully to their values."

Jim held back a chuckle, instead settling for a mild grin – really he didn't see how any of the other ships functioned without a Vulcan on board, "Well that makes me feel better," He turned back to Pike, "But it doesn't mean I have to_ like_ our first proper assignment being a diplomatic signing."

"You wouldn't have been happy with whatever mission I first gave you," The man sighed, though there was humour in his gaze, "Just think – free food."

Everyone perked up at this; Chekov leant sideways and whispered to Sulu, "I read they 'ave the finest vine," To which came the reply, "Oh yeah – well I'll let you know kid."

Jim laughed and waved the Admiral off, "Fine, fine – you've convinced us, who am I to deny these people actual food?"

"You've hardly been in space – don't tell me you're complaining already."

"Hey, moaning comes with the title; it is a trait that must be held by all Captains."

Pike shook his head, seeing the young man like this made it really hard to believe it was the same person who saved the world less than a month ago, "Okay I'm leaving now – have fun on Kandra, Pike out."

The screen clicked black for a second before returning to once again show the stars of space; he lifted his head to Spock who had a raised eyebrow that clearly said, 'I disapprove of how you address the Admiral.'

"Oh he loves it really," Jim defended, "Anyway the man's like my dad, it would be weird to turn all formal on him – Chekov can you make a ship-wide announcement about our new destination please."

He flicked his eyes to the kid in the second part and the seventeen year old responded like a puppy being thrown a bone, ignoring Sulu's mutter under his breath.

"I would attempt to persuade you further on the matter however through my so far brief experience I have learnt that this would be a futile effort," The Vulcan replied in his own version of an exasperated sigh before returning to his station.

Jim's lip twitched and he spun to face Uhura, "Are the translators all working? And how many do we have?"

"They're all fine and we have twenty," She answered without looking up, finishing a final few strokes of the keyboard her gaze lifted to meet the Captain, "However I've just been informed by their high-court that all the people we'll be in contact with know our language so translators won't be necessary."

"Well that makes me feel inadequate," Jim mumbled to himself, making a mental note to learn some basic Kandrian before they arrived – people may not know it but languages were one of his fortes; he could already speak fluently in 16 off-world ones and then get by in 21 more. It came from having a mother who was always leaving to explore space and having that child desire to impress her with his own universe knowledge and the hope that maybe she'd be so amazed that it would make her stay – this didn't happen.

However the constant language learning from so young kind of fine-tuned his brain to the whole pattern meaning now he just naturally picked up new dialects extremely quickly.

"What's our course time Sulu?" He asked, spinning once again.

The Helmsman tilted his head but didn't turn, "79.5 hours at Warp 3 Captain."

"Crank it up to Warp 4 and make it 53.2 hours instead," He ordered, restraining rolling his eyes at the shocked expression he knew Uhura would be throwing at him – yes he _could_ do Warp calculations.

Practically jumping from his chair because finally he had an excuse to move about, he approached the next station on his routine list, "So I hear Kandra's a beautiful place, whole load of nature and stuff – and I'm guessing we're not going to get poisoned by their air."

Spock felt an arm on his shoulder as the Captain used him as a leaning post, "An accurate yet not completely correct assumption – from past reports it seems that the densely populated regions which seem to be the equivalent of major cities to us hold the same levels of nitrogen and oxygen however in the far regions, nitrogen levels are much higher to a degree that there would be a 74% likelihood of death through asphyxiation."

"What – so they've adapted to our conditions or something?"

"Perhaps, or maybe neither they can breathe in those levels either which is why particular areas are so densely populated; not by choice but lack of options due to vast uninhabitable regions."

"Huh, well I guess you've found a new hobby project to look –" He sensed somebody standing behind him and turned his head to meet one of the younger scientists from the Botany lab, "Can I help you with something?"

"Sorry sir," The poor lad looked quite flustered at coming over to talk to the Captain, "I just wanted to thank you for dealing with that plant situation last night – I wasn't there myself but I saw the mess when I got in today, sorry you had to be called sir."

Jim frowned, his eyes flicking to Spock for an answer but the Vulcan wasn't looking at him, "Sorry Jackson, I wasn't called to the lab – there was a plant situation?"

Now the man looked confused, and a slight flush was gracing his cheeks at thinking he had made a mistake, "But – I mean the guys said they were going to call for you when I left."

"Well I wasn't in my quarters to receive a conn and I didn't get one anywhere else…" His voice trailed off as his gaze slid back to his First Officer.

Spock straightened, causing Jim's arm to get nudged from its position and he stumbled to keep his balance, "It is of no consequence how the situation was assisted," He droned in his prime neutral tone, "It was handled and is no longer an issue – shouldn't you be at your laboratory working Ensign."

It was not posed as a question and the young man took no time in scuttling to the lift with a quick, 'Yes Commander' – Jim guessed the poor lad must feel extra intimidated by Spock seeing as he was kind of his commanding officer twice-fold.

However just because Jackson had gone it didn't stop Jim from perching on the half-humans station, folded arms and a smug grin, "What was that earlier about not feeling obliged to assist your workload?"

Spock pushed down the urge to shift in his seat, keeping his eyes glued to the screen before him, "You were not available and I happened to be present to answer for the situation."

"Didn't know you cared Spock."

"It was purely logical."

"Couse it was – wait, so does that mean you were in my room?"

"You are the one who left me there."

"I didn't _leave_ you – you're not a pet for goodness sake."

"The ears could be debatable for that statement."

Jim blinked at the sudden joke, before he let out a burst of roaring laughter causing many heads to turn around in bewilderment at what on earth the Captain could be finding so funny at the First Officer's station – it was probably the Vulcan misunderstanding some human reference again.

He was actually having to wipe tears from his eyes, still chuckling he replied, "Man if I'd known you had this much of a sense of humour we would have gotten along a lot quicker," He caught the flash of a corner of the Vulcan's lip twitch upwards.

He patted the half-human's shoulder, "Thanks for the plant."

"My gratitude for the report," Came the reply.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed, drop a review if you can :)_


	4. Handstands

**Casual Contact**

**A/N:** Here's the next one, a bit more of some of our others characters for you here too :)

* * *

The sick bay was currently void of all patients; when you'd only been duty active for just less than a month with no major planet missions it didn't leave much desire for illness – and McCoy wasn't a narcissist as certain people may suggest due to his high use of hypos but…

It was really boring in here.

There was literally nothing else left to do; he'd filed every single report lying around, double checked every piece of equipment, filtered through the entire crews medical history to assure all needed allergies or known illnesses were equipped for as well as gone as far to hand clean all his utensils.

However that didn't mean that when Jim came bounding into the room like the main act at some circus performance he was going to show that he could nearly scream in thanks for a final distraction.

"Damnit Jim this isn't a parade – I could have a seriously ill patient trying to rest in here!"

The young man made a point of surveying the room, hands still raised from his flamboyant declare of 'I'm here!' before replying, "But you don't."

"But I could have!" He barked, sighing and dragging his friend's arms down for the ridiculousness of the position, "So what do you want?"

Jim masked a hurt expression, clutching at his heart for the dramatics, "Are you saying I couldn't just be coming down to bask in the presence of my best friend?"

"You bask enough in your own presence."

"That cannot be helped – I mean you've seen me."

"And sometimes I don't think I'll ever recover."

"Ouch."

"What'd you want Jim?"

The man shrugged, adopting his official tone, "Uhura got a message from Kandra, so we came to let you know that-"

"We?" Bones interrupted, folding his arms and leaning against the door frame to his office.

Jim frowned at the question, "Yes we," He gestured to the space on his right and his mouth paused mid-way open as he found it lacking a First Officer.

"Um…" He hummed as he made a full circle, scanning his gaze across the room as if the Vulcan was going to be standing in plain sight and his eyes just weren't registering him, "Man he needs a bell or something," He mumbled to himself.

Turning back to an amused doctor he slipped on his childish grin, "I swear he was right there a few seconds ago."

Bones couldn't help chuckling at the young man, if it were possible to capture a puppy in human form Jim Kirk would be the product, "Okay Fido – I know you're trying to convince me you can make friends with the hobgoblin but having your own imaginary version doesn't count."

"Ha ha," He drawled, taking a skip and jumping onto the edge of one of the beds so that his legs could swing back and forth, "However back to my original point, Kandra's ambassador gave us a call and apparently they would _love_ for our medical man to tour their facilities to give any tips or improvement queries for species other than their own kind."

The doctor's face closed up at the words and he jabbed a finger at his friend's smirk, "No."

"But the Chief of Medicine's cousin's daughter had a visit to one of Starfleet's main hospitals and adored all our gismos and gadgets – how can you deny your knowledge to our dear Kandrian friends?" Jim whined with an added pout.

"I am not getting into a medical conversation with those sharing-and-caring softies again," He growled, "I was partnered with an exchange Kandrian for a project in the Academy and it was all 'Are you sure you don't mind this', 'We should do this instead but only if we both agree', 'Are you certain you agree?' – it drove me insane!"

Jim laughed at the imagery of Bones fists clenched and teeth gritted trying not to lash out at a young excitable Kandrian; one of the man's main pet hates had always been getting asked the same thing multiple times – he'd always say if he didn't hear it the first time it was his own damn fault and he'd just find out later.

"You know someone other than me would say you're border-lining xenophobic."

"Yeah well if someone other than you were telling me to tour the Kandrian's medical bay I'd have kicked them out already."

"You love me, don't worry I know," Jim smirked, dropping his gaze to his fingernails and idly inspecting them, "But… I could easily drop rank on you to take the tour."

Bones jaw clicked, "Technically _I_ outrank _you_."

"Only when it comes down to health stuff," He taunted, letting his legs swing further which gave him the image of a smug kid who knew he was going to get what he wanted.

"And if you mysteriously come down with an illness then you wouldn't have a chance to pull rank," Bones replied as his eyes took on that menacing glint that appeared many times he'd threatened to hypo the man inactive in the downstairs region when he'd crash back to their room at painful hours of the morning and wake him up.

"Yet then your actions would classify as mutiny and I would be obliged to hold you to a court martial, following would result in a 76% probability of you being dishonourably discharged which would increase to 89% which a senior officer offering witness," Spock entered the room, hands clasped behind his back and tilted his head at the doctor, "Which I would."

Jim burst out laughing at the Vulcan's dramatics, which became stronger at the death glare Bones turned in the Commander's direction as he growled, "You know not everything needs to taken literally – us humans do have this thing called sarcasm!"

"Hey don't beat on my knight in shining armour," Jim announced, finding amusement in the fact that Bones couldn't see that the Vulcan was joking, "I bet he's been waiting out there all along for the right moment to come and defend my honour."

This earned him a deadpanned expression, "You are incorrect – I was stopped by a crew member regarding a query of a current science investigation, I believed you would notice however you continuing walking so I left you to your own accord."

"There you go again!" Bones exclaimed taking a step forward, "He was joking – does your logic let you understand that?"

"Indeed," Spock replied and raised an eyebrow, however moving to take a stance by the Captain's shoulder as the doctor had unknowingly entered his classification of personal space, "To joke is a term or phrase spoken or done to provoke laughter or cause amusement, as a witticism, a short and amusing anecdote or a prankish act."

He felt Jim clutch his sleeve as he attempted to hold back another round of laughter at his response and watching the doctor's face tighten even further the half-human also found the corner of his lip itching to peak upwards.

It was quite interesting to observe how Dr McCoy's insistent that his personality could only hold with degrees of logic and seriousness meant that he failed to consider that responses that he would take as 'banter' if spoken by the Captain were only neutral words in his case.

And he was not going to waste the effort attempting to explain this – it was something he could only notice on his own; if ever.

"Alright, alright – claws in you two," Jim interjected, "Bones is going to forget why we came here in the first place."

"And the answers still no," He grumbled.

The young man sighed, glancing up and sharing a 'stubborn idiot' look with his First Officer before turning back to his friend and dropping the tease from his tone, "Look I know it's not your first choice of company – but it's a special invitation and the fact is some areas of their medical field are much more advanced than ours and that information we need them to share with us –"

"- It should not take an exaggerated length of time, also their customs may not be equal to yours however the Kandrian's are a very hospitable and pleasant species and it is not logical to make an assumption of a whole people by your one experience." Spock ended managing to keep out the aloofness he apparently tinted his voice with on many occasions.

Bones was staring between the two of them, a slightly horrified expression on his face and his reply held a different topic, "Did you just… were you just ganging up on me?"

Jim shared a glance with Spock and turned back with a smirk, "Did it work?"

"It creeped me out."

"Good enough," He shrugged, jumping up and sliding past Bones with a sweeping clap on his back, "So have fun on the medical tour!"

And he'd disappeared through the door before another complaint could be growled.

"I'm not – damnit!" The doctor barked, slamming a hand against a desk, "Why do I even put up with the kid?"

This was a mutter he found passing his lips many a hour; of course he knew why – the idiot had become his little brother within only a few weeks of them meeting despite his constant nattering, cheery attitude and unending wit. But there had been something about the kid, an unknown factor that had just flared his protective instincts beyond the average doctor-patient level he could relate to any breathing organism as well as the fact that somehow; he actually… liked the kid.

And once you pass the whole family bond line with someone, there's never a way to escape it.

Sighing he ran a hand through his hair; he may not like this tour he'd been stuck with but at least he now had something to occupy his time – he could hardly arrive at the Kandrian's facility without understanding _anything_ about their methods or equipment.

As he stepped towards his office his body twisted in meaning to reach for his PADD resting on a pile of reports…

However he froze when his gaze met a pair of brown neutral orbs.

"Umm…"

The two men remained staring at one another for a handful of stretched seconds; there had only ever been three occurrences since joining the Enterprise when they'd been stranded alone without the young Captain as their common standing…

This was the third.

"I hope there is opportunity to widen your current medical knowledge," There was no emotion in the words, at least none detectible to the doctor, so he couldn't judge if he'd just been starkly insulted or begrudgingly complimented.

Since Jim would nag for days on end if he 'upset' the Vulcan, he decided to take it as the latter.

"Thanks," He mumbled, the one syllable leaving the silence to take hostage again – a hasty retreat to his office was heavily desired but the hobgoblin was simply standing there all stiff and proper… just staring. Did he have something to say? Was there a question he needed answering? Scratch that, Vulcan – okay, was there a question he felt he knew the answer to? Did –

"If I am no longer required I must be taking my leave."

… Oh, apparently he was awaiting permission to exit.

"Uh, yeah sure," Bones frowned, idly waving towards the door, "You can go."

It was the only necessity, so with his famous nod the Vulcan strode out of the room with such speed the doctor was relatively certain the hobgoblin had sensed the awkwardness just as much as he had.

Scooping up his PADD he slouched though the metal with his name slab and locked it shut, planning to remain there for at least four hours.

Collapsing into his chair he allowed his top body to fall forward where his propped hand caught his chin, shaking his head at the weird quirks of the First Officer.

_Who asks permission to leave a room?_

* * *

Jim remained grinning as he manoeuvred through the corridors, riling Bones was definitely one of his top past times – it had been since he'd followed the man to his assigned room at the Academy, flopped onto the extra bed and announced he was self-appointing himself as his new roommate.

He took the next left, despite the fact the bridge was on the right; _technically_ he should now be returning to his station, however there was nothing to do there but warm his chair so instead he found his legs directing him to engineering – Scotty always had some random task lying around.

"And there you go."

"That is what I was doing!"

"No – you were air-kneeling and then floundering on the floor."

"I remained up for ten seconds!"

"Three."

"Eight."

"Five."

"Seven and a half."

"Five minus a half."

Now anybody walking by and hearing an argument of that obscure variety couldn't_ not_ stop to nose in – which was why Jim's head back-tracked to poke through the mini Botany lab; which was really a spare storage room that the plant maniacs had demanded be given to them due to the injustice that every other research department had a minimum of three labs and they only had one.

The distinctive Russian accent and partner voice that normally accompanied the kid had already informed Jim who he was about to walk in on – however the particular positioning hadn't been what he'd imagined.

Sulu was in a perfect handstand in the centre of the room, smirking up at Chevok who was sulking with crossed arms and that pout which never gave any help towards his complaints of not being a child.

"You just counted down!" Accused the young genius, "And besides – it's not fair – you're a professional fencer so you have trained perfect balance."

Sulu didn't make a move to switch his vertical status, actually he seemed perfectly comfortable chatting with his hair sweeping the floor, "Doesn't change the fact you bet that you could work out how to do this quality handstand with a physics equation and you failed – Captain!"

However the sight of his commanding officer leaning against the door _did_ make him flip back to his feet in a panic – although an elegant one.

"Keptain!" If Sulu looked worried then the poor kid looked like he was on the verge of a heart attack, "I – we were just –"

"It was my fault – we got into a debate and –"

"No I said –"

"And we were about to walk back –"

Jim lifted a hand, which automatically silenced his two friends – he was never going to get use to that response; the whole mass respect despite the fact these were two guys he'd joke around with and join for a drink in his breaks… well, the one who wasn't under-aged.

But that didn't mean it wasn't just a little bit awesome.

"So," The word dripped off his tongue as he prowled towards them, taking humour from the uneasiness settling in their eyes, "How come you two aren't currently at your stations?"

Chekov opened his mouth in a fluster to reply but Sulu placed a hand on his arm and pre-interrupted, "One of the plants needed moving from the main lab but all the Botany guys are held up in an experiment right now so Pavel came to help and we just got caught up in this debate we've been having this shift," He took a breath, "We were going to head back in a minute."

Jim offered no emotional response to the explanation and instead took another step forward, tilting his head to give a very accurate 'I'm contemplating killing you' Spock impression.

"So who's currently flying my ship?"

This time Chekov managed to leap in, "Richard and Harris have our posts Keptain."

"Well at least we haven't crashed yet," He muttered, remembering a certain stimulation training exercise Harris had partaken in which had resulted in the setting of a new record – the shortest time span for someone to crash a ship, "Did you say it was the physics of a handstand that had taken you from duty?"

He directed this question at Chekov, the poor kid was practically weeping guilt for apparently disappointing his hero and all he could muster was a weak nod.

"Have you got the equation?" Jim's disapproved façade almost broke when the kid lifted his gaze with a lace of confusion; but his eyes quickly averted back to the floor and he timidly raised a crumpled scrap of paper.

The captain took the scrawled note and threw an analysing assessment over the numbers; after a few silent seconds he nudged the boy genius and placed the paper under his nose, "Did you account for friction in relation to hand-spread?"

Chekov's head snapped up and his emotions melted into excitement as he snatched the sheet, adding extra formulas with a pen that had magically appeared in his quick fingers as he muttered various noises under his breath.

Jim smirked at the kid's enthusiasm and looked up to see Sulu now holding his own grin, he threw him a wink before slapping a hand on the young Russian's shoulder, "You want to try that handstand again?"

Chekov beamed up at him with those wide hero worship eyes Jim had grown accustomed to over the past weeks, "Yes Keptain – you were right, I had been thinking of my mass proportional to my hand span not spread which gives little relation to the terms of balance –"

"Okay mini Spock, less nattering more flipping upside down," Jim chuckled, placing a hand over the kid's mouth.

Sulu rose an eyebrow as the young navigator lined up for his flip, "If this works, it so doesn't fall into the terms of the bet."

"Yeah it does," Jim quipped, "Now come on, get on your hands before Harris really does crash my ship."

The point of his tongue was peeking out of his mouth but on command Chekov pushed forward, letting his body swing up and catching himself in a full vertical hold – although Jim may have been tensed ready to catch him if he'd decided to go all the way.

The kid's face lit up when his position held and a childish laugh erupted from his lungs, "See! I said it could be calculated – you owe me twenty-five credits!"

Sulu looked ready to argue the point that technically it didn't count because the young man hadn't worked it out on his own but a sharp glance from Jim had him instead mouthing 'You owe me credits' to the Captain.

"Okay, okay – now you really need to get back," Jim said as he tapped the boy's legs, causing him to flop to the floor much to the amusement of the two standing men.

"Hey! I could have walked on my hands if you hadn't pushed me," Chekov whined, scrabbling off the ground.

"Kid, the only reason I helped you up was to have the fun of knocking you over," He teased as he wrapped an arm around the young genius's neck and ruffled his hair; an action Chekov batted away and moaned about, but Jim could see the light smile on his features.

His older brother Sam hadn't been around much during his childhood – and there hadn't really been many other kids to hang around with in the outskirts of Iowa; but already the moments he found himself messing around with the seventeen year old made him pretty sure this was what it was like to have a little brother.

"A few more seconds and he wouldn't have needed help falling over," Sulu chipped in, scuffing his friend over the head as he dodged through the door.

"You're just jealous I worked it out."

"I'm not – because _you_ didn't, it was Jim."

"But I was the one who did the equation."

"Which wouldn't have been possible_ to_ do if you hadn't been told."

"I could have thought of it myself."

"But you didn't."

"But I could have."

"Doesn't change the fact you didn't."

Jim chuckled as he fell in step behind the bickering pilots – on the brother topic these two were a prime example of a pair of equal aged siblings; constantly bickering over every little detail or topic they could think of but never seen one without the other.

In truth there was six years between them but with Chekov's maturity and Sulu's childish nature in the end they rounded off as the same.

"Four essential bridge crew not at their stations violates a minimum of five Starfleet regulations."

Jim jumped at the sudden monotonous tone tickling his right ear and he threw a glare at its owner, "Seriously – the bell idea, it needs to happen."

"Although providing use to prevent these moments of surprise such an object would have many setbacks in combat situations."

"Well you'd take it off in those situations."

"Yet I would then have no capacity to store it on my person."

"Chuck it away and I'd get you a new one," Jim sighed, this was one negative aspect of noticing Spock's sarcastic mannerism – they were both so quick-witted that their hypothetical situational conversations could sometimes go on for hours; the only difference was that now he had confirmation that the Vulcan _did_ understand he was joking so there was comfort that the past weeks he'd been wasting time in banter and not endless explanations.

"Commander," Chekov exclaimed as he turned to find the science officer in a previously empty space, "When did you arrive?"

Jim threw him an 'I told you so' glance and smirked at the kid, "He teleported."

"But there isn't a transbeam mat on this level –"

"He's joking," Sulu rolled his eyes, but automatically straightened as he caught gaze with the Vulcan; he always felt under judgement against those piercing brown eyes, "Uh – are you heading back to the bridge Commander?"

"Indeed," He inclined, "I believe that is currently the destination for each of us."

"Yeah, actually," Jim's voice called from where he'd ceased walking a few seconds ago, "I was just heading down to engineering – so I'll catch up with you guys in a bit."

"Captain," Spock replied in his classic patronising tone, "Unless there is an emergency or vilified task requiring your presence you must remain on the bridge to allow optimum access and availability to other crew members and any situations that may arise."

A second problem with Spock, however much you could joke with him he was still a stickler for the rules.

"But there could be an emergency in engineering right now I haven't heard of – so I'm simply doing my duty and checking."

"Therefore proceeding to your chair and inspecting the conn will give the same result yet not account for losing time on the return if there is no issue."

"And if there is a problem I'll have to use double that time to depart and return to engineering whereas I am currently much closer," He rebuked with a flash of his innocent grin as he continued taking steps backwards down the corridor – a couple more and he'd be at the corner.

"Only by forty-two strides," Spock returned, earning a baffled glance from the two pilots awkwardly hovering at his side watching the verbal tennis match – how did the Vulcan have the time to work that out?

"Wow, only forty-two? That's interesting – fascinating even, and definitely something to take into consider-"

He was at the corner.

"Sulu and Chekov were doing handstands in the Botany lab!"

Spock's gaze snapped around to the two men who in turn twisted to glare at their Captain; however he had disappeared – if they were in an old-fashioned cartoon you'd still be able to see the wind spiralling in the space he'd sprinted from.

So this left them to nervously draw their eyes up to the Commander.

Chekov slowly reached into his pocket and held up a crumpled scrap of paper, "I could give you the equation."

* * *

It was 3.00 in the morning and Spock was once more attempting the challenge of submitting to sleep.

Well technically it wasn't 3.00am as there was no actual time clarification in space since there was no sun cycle to guide the clock layout, however for convenience and sentimental factors all Starships ran on what would be earth time – an action that didn't seem fully just to the crew members who aren't of earth origin and therefore did not follow the particular time zone.

Although said crew would have attended the Academy on earth for a minimum of three years so would have made the time adaption long ago.

He rolled over on his other side.

They were now 9.4 hours from reaching Kandra, he had pulled a double shift but unfortunately the Captain had found out that when he used the term resting he'd actually meant it as resting in the science lab on one of his independent experiments, so the man had escorted him back to his quarters when the shift came to an end.

He had not accepted the information that 36 hours without sleep was hardly noticeable to a Vulcan.

He rolled back over.

Besides, it wasn't 36 hours he had been awake for – it was 5.4 weeks.

Since the destruction of his home he had found himself unable to succumb to sleep; fortunately eight days prior he had finally managed to perform thirty-two minutes of meditation which did give his body a form of rest – it wasn't the nine hour average he usually partook however with the lack of a home planet to picture as an anchor this was no longer attainable; the Enterprise made a poor substitute but it at least provided him with something.

The achievement of thirty-two minutes meditation each day was the only factor giving resistance to a need for the Medical Bay; it was true that Vulcans can go for a month without sleep…

However a month is the maximum amount at a stretch – and he'd been awake much longer than that.

The morning before his success at a mild meditation he'd almost collapsed on the bridge; he'd noticed the sensation of dizziness a few moments before his sight vanished so he had managed to reach the lift before anyone noticed and then stumble back to his quarters by guiding his hand along the wall since his sight had now disappeared - his legs only collapsed after the door had shut.

It had been an act of desperation to try the meditation, but the idea had emerged to try and use the ship as his centre rather than earth or the planet he was aware had been chosen for the survivors of his people and in a fortuitous event it had worked.

He rolled once more.

Yet even this made no progress towards actual sleep.

His eyes snapped open, it was all a futile effort and even worse was that he would still have to remain in his quarters until the beginning of the next shift to give the impression that he had been resting when he could be doing work.

The thought to sneak out to the lab was tempting, as he had his own personal office in there with its own equipment meaning the other scientists would not be aware he was present – however if anyone did sight him it would get reported to the Captain, who had made quite a loud show on demanding Spock went to bed, which would result in the man lecturing him on not being a robot therefore likely leading to the admittance of sleep deprivation and end with a sentence to Doctor McCoy.

Waiting in his quarters seemed to be the better option.

He rolled again.

Yet this time his eyes were open, so as the momentum finished his gaze was directly pointed to a picture on his shelf.

A choking sensation gripped his throat as he looked at an image of his mother, young and smiling, her chin resting on his child head with her arms securely around his small frame.

He had not hugged her since the day he left to attend the Starfleet Academy all those years ago and he could not remember the last time he had informed her of his love – these were things he had not thought about, it was against his species to carry out such actions so he had stopped when attending school as a child.

It hadn't been something he thought he'd live to regret for the rest of his life.

The picture began to blur as moisture grew in his eyes, his mind playing another image of his mother – her shock as the ground broke beneath her, the outstretched arm trying to grab hold of him, the fear as he disappeared and she knew that was the end.

He snapped up, kicking his sheet off and flinging his legs to sit on the edge of the bed – his head resting in his hands with eyes downcast to not have to look at the photo.

For the strength of grief that stabbed him each time he glanced at the picture one may say it was illogical to keep it and especially have it in such a purposeful eye-line; but perhaps that was why he kept it – not just to be able to see his mother's face but for the pain it brought him.

Because he deserved it – he had been the one who'd let her die.

A stray tear trickled down his cheek and he took a sharp breath to force down the others that were threatening to fall, running his hands over his face and through his hair in a very human gesture; it didn't matter when there was nobody to witness it.

He needed to move, he needed activity.

Silently bursting into the bathroom he gripped the edge of the sink, feeling the metal begin to dent at the intensity of his strength – staring at the reflection in the dimly lit mirror it would be hard for anyone on the ship to recognise him; even Nyota.

The rim of his eyes were redden where his tear ducts were being forced to hold, his expression portraying all his emotions like an open book and his night clothes were a mess – even his hair was sticking up in various directions in a manner that would earn the description of a 'bird nest'.

Moving to this second room wasn't enough – he needed something to occupy his mind, drown out all the negative memories and thoughts…

Suddenly he found his hand typing in the code to the adjoining room.

He paused when the door slid open, mainly from shock of what he'd just done, but also because he was aware that trespassing in a man's quarters at such a time with no work related excuse was definitely not an acceptable human trait.

And it would be painful to even consider what Vulcan custom would say.

Yet he found his legs stepping forward and the next thing he heard was the low volume setting of the door close behind him – now he was certainly trespassing.

He could not explain why he was in the Captain's room; perhaps it was a stirring of an old reaction from when he was very young and would seek out his mother for comfort…

Not a useful thought-track.

Shuffling further in he could see the outline of the resident asleep under the covers, the man appeared excessively child-like when in such a state – it was quite fascinating how one of so few years had achieved the status he now held, with each passing second he was breaking the statistical grounds stating a Captain would begin their career at the minimum of 30 years of age.

Escorting his gaze onwards he was observing the particular room for the second time in three days when prior to this he had never stepped in the area.

The boxes were still piled in various positions; however an increased number of personal items had been retrieved and placed in more appropriate locations, the surroundings had a relative neatness to them – diminished to his standard but an acceptable quality and graciously it seemed all reports were correctly organised on the desk, the man's personal cleanliness was entirely his own business but tardiness of important documents would be a subject he'd have an opinion on.

A sigh passed his lips, for whatever reason he had ended up here it had been a failed response – there was no distraction available; turning in meaning to retire back to four more hours of pacing around his quarters his gaze slid across a small table at the end of the Captain's bed… upon which sat a chess board which had clearly been paused mid-game.

His eyebrow rose at the sight; he had been unaware that the man was a player of the logical challenge.

Glancing at the sleeping officer and assessing he was currently in the REM cycle so unlikely to be disturbed by gentle noises, he cautiously approached the bed and took a seat at the table.

At closer view the corner of his mouth quirked upwards, from the positions of the pieces he could observe that the Captain was a substantially skilled player – there was a mixture of formations including some he had only witnessed at high level competitions as well as a couple he failed to recognise.

His eyes flicked up to the figure that was now directly in front of him; he felt that in proper courtesy he should request permission to use the Captain's board before simply beginning his own game.

However he hadn't acquired such permission to be in the quarter in the first place, so logically he may as well keep to the same pattern – furthermore he would be gone prior to the man awakening so he would never be aware of his presence anyway.

A subconscious region of his mind considered that he should feel unsettled sitting in such a vulnerable state only mere inches away from a person who could regain awareness at any moment – but he actually felt quite relaxed in the surrounding atmosphere… perhaps there was a relation to the conversation they had passed to the topic of touch previously.

Whatever the facts; reflexively resetting the pieces and taking his first move there was one ending advantage.

He had found a distraction.

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed, once again drop a review if you can :)_


	5. Syrup

**Casual Contact**

**A/N: **Love all you guys who are favouriting/following/reviewing this - cheers :)

* * *

Jim woke to a face-dunk on the floor; his legs flailing in the trapped blanket with a cry out as the falling sensation hit him.

Groaning he glared up at the deafening alarm that had tried to kill him; every day he'd spent a few spare minutes tearing that thing apart to try and change the ring tone or at least lower the volume – but apparently it enjoyed him waking up with a head injury.

Pulling himself off the ground he stretched out and grabbed a towel to head to the shower; the joint doors had a manual lock for when you were using the bathroom however they automatically locked when the shower was in use so there were no awkward walking in on one another moments if someone forgot to type in the code – which was probably a likely trait for Jim to do since before his morning shower he was really not that quick.

Coming back out he pinched a uniform from the closet, not having to decide what to wear each day was definitely a bonus, and slid them on.

He sat down by the table at the end of his bed to put his boots on and his eyes naturally scanned past the chess board as he lowered himself; jumping up he took a few steps away but suddenly paused and slowly spun back around.

_Didn't I leave the pieces in the middle of a game?_

His head tilted as a frown grew on his features, there the chess pieces sat in their starting positions – he hardly ever tidied the board up after a game.

"Well there's a first time for everything," He shrugged, walking back into the bathroom and straight through the adjoining door.

"Morning Spock!"

The Vulcan's head shot up at the intrusion but he stopped himself from berating the man since he was aware it would be a wasted effort, so he instead offered a brief nod, "Good morning Captain, I trust you slept well."

"Better now that I found an extra pillow," Jim replied as he perched on the bed, "I'm telling you – people who only sleep with one are committing a crime, how on earth is that supposed to be comfortable?"

"There would be some who would have the same query about the use of two pillows."

"Well then they're idiots."

"I only acquire one pillow."

"So you're an idiot too."

Spock raised an eyebrow.

"Okay well obviously you're not an _idiot_, but still one pillow gives no support and…" Jim realised he was running out of argument, "Anyway, you sleep alright?"

The Vulcan was faced away from him when he asked so he didn't see the flicker of tension across his expression, "My rest was adequate."

Technically it wasn't a lie, as Vulcans were incapable of this – his rest of playing chess all night_ had_ been satisfactory, it was simply that his and the Captain's idea of the word rest were not identical.

"As it should be, if you start pulling double shifts when we're not in a crisis again I'm going to have Bones follow you around with a hypo," Jim smirked at the glare he received, "How far have we got till we reach Kandra by the way?"

"5.2 hours - I assume you will call a meeting prior to our arrival."

"Yeah, although there's not really much to go over," He sighed and flopped onto the bed, "Basically we're getting prepared for a boring collection of days."

Spock had to take a deep controlled breath to prevent himself from snapping at the man for crumpling his sheets, if this was what Dr McCoy had to deal with for three years he could actually bring himself to feel a small amount of sympathy, "It is a privileged opportunity – for each of the past signings each crew has been specially selected through detailed discussion due to the sensitivity of the Kandrians, you should be honoured that this task has been entrusted to you."

"I guess," He peeked up and threw a grin, "At least we get free non-replicated food."

The Vulcan resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

Straightening the last book on the shelf, he turned and clasped his hands behind his back, "Indeed, yet at the moment you will have to suffice with such – are you intending to consume breakfast?"

"Oh yeah," He flipped onto his stomach and crawled across the duvet, "That's the reason I came here in the first place."

As the top half of the Captain's body disappeared under the bed, Spock found himself addressing the man's legs, "Because you believe I keep breakfast under my furniture?"

"No – I just, wait a minute," His muffled voice replied, "Oh I nearly – just a bit more…"

Suddenly he slammed onto the floor as he had tried to stretch too far under but he quickly leapt up, grinning and holding up a bottle as if it were a trophy, "Got it!"

This event entitled two raised eyebrows, which it achieved and Spock reluctantly asked, "What is it you found?"

"My chocolate syrup," Jim answered in an 'isn't it obvious' tone.

"You hid chocolate syrup under my bed?"

"No – I've hidden a multitude of syrups, this one won't last forever."

The Vulcan closed his eyes, "Why have you placed them here?"

"Because everyone loves syrup with their pancakes so I basically own a treasure chest," He sat on a box at the end of the bed, "These things would get stolen straight away, mainly by Bones – and he knows _all_ my typical hiding places but he would never suspect I'd keep them in your room; plus even if he did he wouldn't dare come in here."

Jim widened his eyes and plastered on his most innocent and child-like expression as he looked up at his first officer, "You don't mind do you?"

There was a stagnant pause, then Spock slowly opened his eyes and pointedly stated, "If a sticky substance is dispersed on anything – I will ensure you are never able to perform the action of swallowing solid food items again."

"That seems fair," Jim shrugged; he then tilted his head as the conn began to bleep and leant over to answer it.

Lt. Andrews appeared on the screen, "Commander – oh for goodness sake!" He trailed off on seeing the two officers in the room, at an hour too early for meetings may he add; it could be written off a fluke the first time they were both hanging out in the others quarters but now it was getting a bit ridiculous.

"You alright Jack?" Jim asked the man who was sitting there with his head in his hands.

Andrews glanced up and sighed, straightening his back he shook his head and muttered, "You know what – it doesn't matter, at least it'll be easier to find either of you now."

Spock stepped forward, "Lieutenant, did you have a query?"

"Just saying that Nialls asked me to tell you experiment 4.1 was successful sir," He spun on the chair to face the main screen showing space and the passing stars, leaving a hand on the button next to the smaller screen, "Andrews out."

And he disappeared just as quickly as he had appeared; Jim gestured his head to Spock, "What's up with him?"

"Perhaps he is confused as to why you are in my quarters at this particular hour."

"I guess you are seen as a very private person," He agreed, jumping up he stepped forward and swung an arm around the Vulcan's shoulders, "They just don't know that we're BFFs now."

Spock gave the man an un-amused look, which most people would say was the_ only_ look he could do, but Jim could tell the difference, "Whatever that term means I believe I disagree."

He walked out of the room, assuming the Captain's arm would drop however the man simply followed him while remaining in the same position, "Means best friends forever Spock."

"It sounds like a description young female children would say," He hoped the arm would release him soon, not that it was making him uncomfortable, simply he did not wished for other crew members to see him allowing such a playful action – they were in a professional environment, "And we are not young female children."

Now the limb did retreat in order for the Captain to clap his hands together, "That wasn't you saying we aren't BFFs!"

"I detest the use of that acronym."

"I'll come up with another phrase bestie – don't worry," Jim replied with a smirk.

Spock couldn't help the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly.

They had entered the recreation room and the young Captain spotted Bones sitting at a far table with two plates of pancakes, he chuckled and nudged his first officer, "He only grabs my breakfast so he can guilt me into sharing my syrup."

"So that is the reason his food is yet untouched?"

"Of course," He grinned, "Cause it wouldn't be logical to share syrup with him if he had already nearly finished."

"Generosity is clearly your most admirable trait."

"Your sarcasms getting more obvious Mr Spock – you may have to sort that out before somebody notices."

The Vulcan tilted his head, "I believe you have breakfast to consume."

Jim laughed and with a quick salute jogged over to his friend, "Make sure you eat something best buddy."

As the Captain left him, he was hit by the impact of the crowded facility and a wave of fatigue overcame his senses at the levels of noise and movement. The chatter rung in his ears whilst the presence of bodies seemed to push against him – he was aware of what was occurring; extensive sleep deprivation entitled loss of senses, there were other factors as well but fortunately these had not yet made themselves prominent, however that did not mean that being in a large group of people was any more comfortable.

Forcing his spine to stiffen he pushed back the negative dealings in his mind and moved to the replicators; Vulcan heritage was useful in these situations.

He picked up his tray of blue cubes and paused to scan the room; he had planned to accompany Nyota as he had only spoken to her on a personal level for a collective 28 minutes since they had boarded the enterprise 3 weeks and 6 days ago.

He was aware that for two people in a romantic arrangement this was not a normal pattern, however they had both been busy and neither had actively fought to seek out the other; she had shown affection the moments immediately following the destruction of his planet but after the incident had ended he had made it clear that it wasn't a topic he wished to discuss and she had respected that – they still talked each day, but mostly following topics of work.

Spock spotted her on one of the corner tables, she was sitting with Mr Scott, clearly enjoying their conversation as she threw her head back with laughter and placed a hand on the man's arm who was in turn grinning.

He turned away from them, he did not wish to intrude on their breakfast and the laughter was causing an ache in his head even from this distance – so he found himself walking over to the table occupied by the Captain and Dr McCoy.

On arriving a few feet from the young man he already felt the pressure that had been pushing down on him lighten slightly and his feet able to lift with less effort; he inwardly frowned at the peculiar observation.

Lowering into the chair next to the Captain his breaths which had been becoming more panicked gently reduced to their normal levels – it seemed the man's presence was providing a similar sense of relaxation he had achieved when playing chess in his quarters the previous night.

Subtly he altered his chair so it was in a slight increased proximity to the young Captain.

To return to his normal functioning state he required sleep - that was not an option.

Therefore a solution to this was extended meditation – this was not achievable.

So brief moments of meditation would have to suffice – which was not possible at this time.

Then logically if for whatever reason the Captain's presence eased away some of his body's desire to collapse in on itself, he was going to accept it.

It was a strange new form of meditation.

"I didn't think you'd be joining us for breakfast," Jim smiled through his mouthful of pancakes.

Spock simply returned the statement with a nod, ignoring the doctor's mutter of 'I was hoping you wouldn't join us'.

Fortunately the Captain seemed to deduce that his first officer no longer wanted to talk so he gave him a friendly kick under the table and turned back to his argument about the best genre of music with his friend.

The Vulcan was left to consume his food in peace, attempting to draw up the energy he would require to get through yet another day before he inevitably broke down in the privacy of his quarters in the coming night.

* * *

"Nice of you to finally arrive," Jim drawled from where he was sitting with his legs propped up on the stretched conference room table.

Bones paused as he entered and threw the man a glare, "I was called to a patient – you were_ there_ when it happened."

"Was I?"

"You were standing right next to me."

"I don't seem to remember that."

"You said 'I'll see you at the meeting when you're finished'."

"Making up excuses isn't going to change the fact that you were late."

The doctor went to make another retort but seemed to think better of it and slouched into one of the open chairs, muttering a few curses that only the Vulcan caught and made an eyebrow raise.

Jim laughed at his grumpy friend, "Come on, you know you love me," He swung his legs and they hit the floor, "Anyway, tardiness aside – do not throw that at me – lets discuss the matter at hand."

They had 1.8 hours until they arrived at Kandra so per protocol a meeting involving the core command crew was being held; usually Jim would call it much earlier to allow room for any long discussions (arguments) however there wasn't really much to say about this mission.

The occupants each took a seat at the Captain's voice since he was talking about actual work, except Spock, who remained standing by the man's shoulder.

"So for the initial meeting myself, Spock, Bones and Uhura will beam down – I'm guessing they won't invite us to a feast straight away –"

"Our arrival will be equivalent to human hours of 2.35am," Jim bent his head to look up at Spock as he cut in, "Therefore it would not be logical to provide us with sustenance – I believe we will simply pass greetings and pleasantries before returning back to the ship and the main welcome will occur the next day."

"Won't you be given quarters on the planet?" Chekov asked, he wasn't actually supposed to be in this meeting but since his main friends were everyone currently in the room it felt too mean to cut him out – plus he'd only be re-told everything they'd talked about by Sulu afterwards.

Uhura answered the question, "All past signings we have, but since this time our hosts are going to be trying their best to give us privacy they're going to find it easier if we're not cluttering them for our full visit."

"Don't see me complaining," Bones mumbled.

"You didn't tell me we wouldn't be staying on-planet," Jim directed at the communications officer; he'd been looking forward to having a couple of days of lie-ins – if he was staying on Kandra then his hosts would probably give him a bit of leverage on sleep, but on the Enterprise he'd have to get up early each morning.

She offered a smirk, "Must have slipped my mind."

"You're going to have to start working on your memory skills."

"I'll be sure to make it a priority."

He winked at her; she may have still not given him permission to use her first name, may believe him to be an idiot most of the time, may still have not fully got over the whole emotionally compromising her boyfriend… actually he wasn't sure where he was going with this.

Trust – that was it, apart from all those things she still accepted and trusted him as Captain.

"How many of us are invited to the planet during the stay?"

"They don't mind how many people beam down to visit the sites," Uhura replied, "However after you and Spock there's only four more invitations for the main feasts, but apparently there are local food facilities where our crew will be offered reduced credits if in uniform."

A groan had emitted through the room at the low invite level – diplomatic meetings normally offered around twenty places and they'd all been looking forward to extravagant three or five course meals.

Jim laughed at the reaction and glanced up to share an amused glint with his First Officer before turning to the room with his arms spread wide, "So who wants to start sucking up?"

Spock's hand snapped out to catch Doctor McCoy's shoe seconds before it hit the Captain's face.

"Luckily you _have_ to be on the list since they want to give you a big tour of the medical centre because otherwise you'd have just lost your chance," Jim said, taking the shoe and chucking it behind his chair.

The Vulcan side-stepped to miss the flying object however immediately moved to reclaim his position behind the man's shoulder, usually for a conference room meeting he would have taken the seat on the Captain's right but this left quite a distance between them and currently due to an unknown factor his presence was one of the only aspects keeping him from collapsing.

Fortunately none of his colleagues had noticed this behaviour; he did have a preference for standing after all.

"Could I have the last place Keptain?" Everyone turned to face Chekov who had gently raised his hand to ask the question.

Jim frowned but his features automatically softened for the kid, "What do you mean last? I haven't decided yet."

"Vell," He flicked his eyes around the room, it may happen often but it didn't mean he enjoyed having attention fully on him, "You've already said that Dr McCoy is going, Lt. Uhura will be another since she is the one who has been in discussion with the Kandrians and thirdly will be Officer Parsons because she shared a room with K'la who visited the Academy from Kandra for a few months last year so has the most first-hand experience with the species."

A couple of seconds of silence fell and Jim smiled at the kid's habit of addressing everyone by their titles even though he's been told there's no need – he also spotted Parsons dipping her head down with a light flush at the young navigator's memory; he was pretty sure she'd only just turned twenty, it seemed the kid wasn't just being noticed for his brains.

"You have made a logical deduction Ensign – and a correct one," Spock replied, the praise lighting up Chekov's face; he may hero-worship the Captain but he still adored the Vulcan.

Jim raised an eyebrow and glanced up, "He did?"

Spock met the gaze, "Indeed."

He turned back to the kid, "Apparently you did – and yes of course you can come, but if I see you sneaking one drop of alcohol I'm going to tell Sulu."

Said man grinned and punched his friend's arm, swiping off the retaliation smack – Jim had seen the spark of worry in the pilot's eyes at the thought of not being able to keep an eye on Chekov on the first mission so he was giving some reassurance that he'd be looked after.

"See this be my thought," The Scottish engineer changed topic, leaning forward and resting his clasped hands on the metal surface, "How's this whole they don't believe in privacy and we do thing gonna work – I get that they've had off-world experience now and they claim they won't get offended if you don't answer their questions; but what if you go refusing too many questions?"

Spock was about to answer but his sharp ears heard the Captain's inclination of breath so he paused.

"I'm sure our hosts will be very respectful and try their best to not ask or keep asking personal questions that may make anyone feel overly uncomfortable – but," Jim's eyes briefly flicked to the side the Vulcan was standing on, "It really comes down to permission, if they're being honest about respecting our boundaries then they will ask permission before their question and this will make us feel comfortable with the situation."

The words washed over Spock and he felt a click in his brain; _permission._

It was not currently in conversation however this word was his answer to comfortable touch.

That was why his body did not reject contact with the Captain – he had specifically asked him, none of his other acquaintances had ever done this; they had all presume his lack of verbal rejection to the casual touches clarified as evidence that he felt comfortable with it.

His gaze fell on Nyota, even she had never asked about his comforts or boundaries and as a top student on the history of his home planet as well as being in a romantic arrangement with him this should have been a factor she took into account.

In a subconscious action, a trait he was not prone to, his hand that was hidden by the chair lifted to rest on the back of the Captain's chair where his knuckles were thinly in contact with the man's shirt – he believed he was undergoing a sensation of gratitude for James Kirk.

Perhaps that was also an explanation for the meditating presence the man was providing which was managing to overcome his extreme sleep deprivation; there was a respect and acceptance which the Captain had casually provided – something only his mother had ever granted in his life.

It was an overwhelming concept to grasp when until a few days ago he had not considered the man any more than a colleague and before that a person he was content to strangle and had banished onto a planet of ice.

"Or you could just punch them," Jim shrugged.

The room laughed at Spock's 'Captain!' and he twisted around to throw the Vulcan a grin, "I'm joking, I'm joking – nobody's going to be hitting any Kandrians… although you could always use your neck pinch."

He was returned with a raised eyebrow and tilted head combo, "Fine – no neck pinching either."

Turning back to the room he flapped his hands at the crew, "Okay that's it; Spock, McCoy, Uhura meet in the transporter room in one hour twenty minutes – now everyone go away, I've seen enough of your faces and frankly one of them is so ugly its making me – Bones stop throwing shoes at me!"

* * *

It seemed that as the day drew on the satisfaction Spock achieved from his form of chess-playing rest the prior night dwindled; it was nothing to a degree he could not handle yet he could not lie and say it wasn't unpleasant.

"We shouldn't be too long," The Captain directed at the Scottish engineer, "Energize."

However on that note a sharp pain sliced through his head as his atoms were drawn apart and beamed down to the planet, it was advised not to use a transporter when ill – clearly this rule was hard to apply when somebody is injured and in need of medical assistance – but as Spock was instead suffering from sleep deprivation the advice would be suggested.

But only he knew of this therefore he was going to continue as normal.

As they appeared in the Shanma the Vulcan had to grit his teeth and use all power not to clasp his pounding head between his hands, in an attempt to not collapse he shifted slightly back and to the side so he was once again at the Captain's shoulder – the pounding began to dimmer to a dull throb.

According to past accounts, the Shanma was the largest of the twelve halls where the planet's internal affairs were discussed and decided; the high number as well as size of these halls was because during the meetings the doors were fully open to allow any citizen to enter and listen – furthermore there were multiple raised stands where citizens who had an opinion on the matter could speak it.

The tradition was due to the species not having the concept of privacy; which seemed to have at least one perk since it resulted in a very just democracy system.

"Greetings," Jim pulled up his best 'You're just going to love me' grin and offered a slight bow, "I'm Captain James Kirk of the Starship Enterprise, this is Mr Spock my First Officer, Lt. Uhura our Communications Officer who I believe you have already spoken with and Dr McCoy our Head of Medicine."

He indicated each person as he introduced them and in turn their five arrival hosts returned a smile and a gentle nod; the man in the middle then stepped forward, "We welcome you to Kandra – I am K'son the Keeper of the Halls and we also must apologise for the small greeting, for us it is late in the hours and most are asleep."

Spock found his eyes roaming over their hosts to study their physical appearance, he had not met a Kandrian in person before and he found them an interesting species.

They were humanoid, however there was not a strong likeness to the inhabitants of Earth – their skin was a ghostly white shade which was supported by very faded blonde hair, even their clothes were all pale colours; these factors all highlighting the most prominent feature.

The eyes.

The eye size was three times that of a traditional human, it was very similar to a certain genre of book called anime in the late 20th to early 21st century where the large ocular orbit was prominently one colour and currently each Kandrian had full olive-green colouring, which was the common shade for peace.

_Currently_, because the species eye colour would change to match their emotions – they were neither empaths nor telepaths however with this aspect it meant they always knew what each other were feeling. It was the Vulcan's theory that centuries ago this was what formed the planets basis of not having the concept of privacy; many fights, disagreements and perhaps wars would have broken out due to them not being able to lie to one another to a certain extent – greed, deceitfulness and hate would have been read in the eyes so to overcome all of this they began the idea of telling everything to each other to therefore have no reason to feel betrayed on seeing someone's true emotion when they had claimed something else.

It was not proven as the Kandrians had lost their books of late history however Spock believed the idea was logical.

"There's no need to apologise, we were aware it would be late for you so we weren't expecting anything big," Jim replied, "We just wanted to introduce ourselves to let you know we have arrived – I'm sure we'll all feel more refreshed tomorrow."

K'son smiled, "Of course, and to remind you that your crew are welcome to visit our planet during the days of your stay – we have many beautiful sites and buildings which should be of interest."

"Thank you, that is very kind," Jim gave another little bow of his head just for good measure and then glance at his crew mates, he thought that was probably all they needed to do for now – the real niceties and stuff would be starting tomorrow.

"Well we will leave you now to let you return to sleep, we don't want to be keeping you up," He stated as he took out his communicator.

Their host nodded in return, "That's very considerate – we look forward to meeting you again and I am sure our citizens will enjoy being able to introduce themselves to your crew mates, especially if they are as physically attractive as yourself – our people have an eye for beautiful items."

Jim really didn't know how to reply to that, so he left it to a half smile and croakily stuttered, "Scotty beam us up."

As soon as the familiar transporter room appeared before him, he swung around to the three people with him and exclaimed, "Did the Keeper of Halls just come onto me?"

Bones was too busy laughing at his friend's face and even Uhura was struggling to hold back a giggle – so it was Spock who answered, "He was simply speaking the truth."

Jim raised an eyebrow at the Vulcan, taking a step back, "Are you coming onto me?"

It was clear Spock wanted to sigh in exasperation, "No Captain – I am explaining that this is an example of their truthful nature, thoughts that they have regarding a situation that we would not speak aloud, they will."

"So I'm probably going to have a good few days being complimented."

Everyone else had left the room now so once again nobody else was around to witness bantering Spock.

"If this does occur I have concerns for your ego."

"My ego's fine."

"It is excessively large."

"Well your ears are excessively large."

"Therefore I have superior hearing – does your ego have a purpose?"

"Makes me just that much more awesome."

"I believe you could learn from our hosts in the topic of the truth."

"And you know what they'd say?"

"I'm sure you are about to enlighten me."

"That I'm awesome."

* * *

_Hope you enjoyed this instalment - drop a review if you can :)_


	6. K'Son

**Casual Contact**

**A/N:** Thank you so much to everyone reviewing, adding favourites and alerting! Really happy you're enjoying this :)

* * *

Jim almost spat out his drink as he was hit with another steam of hysterics as K'Son gave his next opinion on the chosen hairstyle of one of the female Kandrians at the end of the table; he'd been totally wrong – a species who told each other everything was _awesome._

They'd all been a bit apprehensive about how the welcoming meal was going to pan out with worries about being asked personal questions, however apart from odd awkward moments where one of their hosts would say something nobody really needed to know it was all going perfectly.

It seemed he actually was cut out for diplomatic missions.

"So with your eye colours, if they change to match your mood how does everyone know what colour represents which emotion?" Jim asked; another perk since whatever question he asked they wouldn't mind because he was just voicing his thoughts – normally diplomats were all shirty over being asked stuff.

K'Son put his cream liquid drink down and his lips curved upwards, "That is a good question Captain – obviously there are some colours which are easy to read; dark red for anger, pale blue for sadness as these shades naturally emit this feeling when looking at them. However for the rest, our scientists centuries ago ran a decade long scientific study using the entire Kandra population – noting down eye colours and asking citizens for their current emotion; it took a long time but eventually they drafted a list matching each shade to a feeling. These were then given to every Kandrian to learn and now we all know it from being taught as infants."

"Wow that's amazing," He replied, shifting to more directly face the host, "And please call me Jim – so do you ever get a new colour pop up?"

"It is very rare but yes, it has been known to happen."

"And do you then add it to the list?"

"Once somebody notices it – the creator won't normally be coincidently looking in a mirror during the occurrence."

"I guess so," Jim hummed; he took a slow swallow of his drink to take the opportunity to check on the rest of his crew around the table.

Chekov and Parsons were next to each other having a four-way conversation with the Kandrians on either side of them; the kid had quite a blush to his cheeks so Jim could guess that a lot of truthful comments he was getting were about how young he was, something he probably didn't want mentioning too much with the nervous glances he was shooting the pretty three year older colleague sitting by him – but her eyes were flicking his way just as much so he didn't have anything to worry about.

Bones was sitting a few places down from Jim; he may have had a good old rant over having to get stuck in the welcome meal but now he was wide-eyed and captivated by some weird looking device the Chief of Medicine was showing him, so he doubted there'd be too much complaint when the time came for the doctor to go on a tour of their medical facilities.

Uhura seemed to be enjoying herself as well; he'd known her long another to tell that those passionate hand gestures meant she was discussing the Kandrians home language and probably even trying to learn a few phrases – she never liked talking to a species who could fluently speak her tongue without at least knowing a bit of theirs.

Really it was only Spock seated on his right who wasn't comfortable in the environment – of course he was in a detailed conversation about the cultural heritage of the planet because he was a Starfleet officer on orders to attend a treaty re-signing so that was what he must do. But the stiffness of his spine, monotonous tone and clasped hands meant Jim's quick glance told him that all the thoughts the Kandrian was saying were too honest for his liking – to be fair Spock was a Vulcan, so had high regards for privacy and had been brought up to not easily share experiences with others, especially strangers.

This probably was a bit of a nightmare for him.

"I assume these types of events must be very common to you," K'Son prompted, drawing the Captain to re-turn his attention.

"Well actually," Jim shrugged, "This is my first."

The host's olive-green eyes widened with a hint of yellow, "How curious, I would have thought the Federation would send a more experienced officer for a treaty re-sign; especially the first occurrence where our people are adjusting to not offend your customs as it could leave more opportunity for disagreement and therefore makes it easier for you to accidently fail."

He had to breathe out his smile and remember he was not being insulted, so far he was fine with hearing K'Sons off the top of the head opinions about him but anyone nipping at his lack of expertise for being a Captain always bit at his insecurities – he got enough of it every day from the Admirals asking for constant progress checks.

"Don't worry – that's why I have Spock here," He replied, taking the Vulcan's arm as he could see in his peripheral vision that his First Officer was near his end point with the Kandrian who had somehow moved on to explaining the details of his current matrimonial affair, "He's been on the job a lot longer than myself so he can keep me in check."

"Indeed, you are a Vulcan Mr Spock?" K'Son enquired and on the returned nod his eyes melted into a light blue shade, "Then may I offer my sympathies for your recent loss."

He reached out a hand and Spock subtly leant back; this had been an event he had wished to avoid.

Although Kandrians were not empaths their custom for sharing grief held similar traits – as they were beings skilled with distinguishing emotion they could bring one to the surface at will, in this case they would mimic the grief, and touch the victim to show they shared that persons sorrow. Within their own kind it was a method to allow the hurt party to be honest with their pain and therefore begin the process of healing; however for a Vulcan who had empathic abilities it would instead cause a heightened sense of the emotion and likely lead to more harm than benefit

Hence he did not wish for K'Son to perform his custom even if it was meant in good will.

Jim felt Spock tense under the hand he had resting on his arm, so decided changing the subject would be a good action.

"I heard that Kandra has a fine eye for architect; is that a general thing or just because of a few culturally passionate people?"

The question distracted their host from the Vulcan's lack of reaction and his hand dropped as he eagerly replied, "Oh no – it is a pride of our kind, whenever a new building is desired it must pass an intense examination to ensure its shape, presence, colour and style is attractive and in unison with the theme of the surrounding facilities."

"Sounds beautiful."

"It is," He beamed; compliments were always a universal language, "I must give you and Mr Spock a tour."

Jim glanced at his First Officer who was attempting to pretend he couldn't hear his previous conversation partner calling him and the only glint in his eyes was 'Get me out of here right now', so the Captain held back his laugh and turned his winning smile onto K'Son, "Well we're both full from your amazing food so we could go now if you're also finished."

"Of course," He replied, already on his feet; after all they probably didn't get very many visitors to show off to.

The two officers followed show; Spock visibly loosening his posture as he left the room although the difference wouldn't have been noticeable to anyone else - Jim spun around to throw Bones a wink, but the man was now practically salivating over some purple blinking device he was scanning over a Kandrian's wrist.

Each of the halls were as beautiful as the last; K'Son led them through the rest of the Shanma and then the second, third and fourth hall until they were now in the Bolkan which was the fifth.

Jim couldn't help wonder how many people were on this planet since their host explained these twelve halls were the only ones used for negotiations of internal affairs, if somebody had an issue or idea they wished to present then they would have to travel – and these places might be massive but you would hardly fit half of the Earth's population in them.

Apparently on observing from the outside the collective twelve made the Kandrian symbol for the term unity and on the interior the entire left wall of each hall was glass – Jim had asked if this was to reinsert the whole we have no secrets in our political meetings but K'Son's reply had been, "No, it's because we have an amazing view."

Which indeed it was; the halls were raised above the rest of the region so you were looking down on all the houses which were uniquely shaped with foliage he didn't recognise winding in between - unlike their attire and appearance the buildings were not simply white however only light pastel colours had been used, clearly bold primary shades were just for their eyes.

Then widening your gaze you could see the vast empty regions beyond the housing, the areas where the air wasn't suitable for breathing – both for humans and Kandrians – but it still looked beautiful; it was like a forest that had overtime become a desert, plant trunks and forms of trees partly hidden under layers of sand.

"So how long have you had these halls?"

K'Son glanced at Jim, "The Shanma has been standing before our records began, the rest of the halls have been added over the centuries as our population expanded with the twelfth – Chian – built only forty years ago, although that wasn't singularly for the need of space; when our first off-planet visit was organised it was created for discussions revolving around all to do with information found on other planets or permission to travel off-world."

Spock hadn't made one comment throughout the duration of their tour, instead staring with a fascination at the architect, decoration and scenery however his voice suddenly reappeared, "Who was the first explorer to leave Kandra?"

"There was nine of them," He paused and drew a hand to point at a cluster of children playing by a fountain who were all surprisingly dressed in bright colours, dramatically standing out among the low tones of their surroundings, "The children of our planet wear such shades because it is not until reaching the age of seven that the eyes settle to indicate emotion, before that their feelings are so rapid and inter-changing that it is a constant flickering so the outfits represent this – also it makes it much easier to not lose them."

Jim laughed but turning to share a glint of humour with Spock, the Vulcan was in a full on neutral expression with quite a firm gaze on the side of K'Son's face, "Um, yeah I guess it would," He raised an eyebrow at his First Officer but he just got an eye flick of dismissal, "Must make them safer as well."

"That is another important factor," Their host agreed.

A stern-faced Kandrian suddenly appeared at K'Son's shoulder and leant forward to whisper something in his ear, Jim politely turned away and continued watching the kids who were now jumping around in the fountain – it seemed wherever you went the young ones all acted with the same energetic attitude.

He caught Spock's stiff posture – well maybe not _all_ planets.

"I must apologise," K'Son said, "There is something I must attend to – feel free to continue exploring the halls and I look forward to the re-signing of the contract to the Federation tomorrow."

Then he followed after his colleague through a door that Jim had not noticed earlier.

He turned to Spock and nudged him on the shoulder, "What's up with you?"

The Vulcan's gaze was still lingering at the exit their host had used but on the contact he re-directed to the Captain, "It is… curious."

"What is?"

"My query on the name of the first being to leave Kandra - he did not answer it."

"Maybe it just slipped his mind."

Spock raised an eyebrow, "Who was the first human to step on land that wasn't Earth?"

"Neil Armstrong," Jim automatically answered and a flash of understanding swept his face, "Oh – I get what you mean."

"The first being to hold the event of something as important as leaving the planet, it is not a fact you can simply forget."

Jim shrugged, "True, but I don't think its cause for alarm."

"Indeed not," They continued walking along the open corridor, "Do you wish to know what was spoken to K'Son?

"Eavesdropping again?"

"I cannot simply turn my superior hearing on and off."

"And it does often come in useful – okay go on, tell me what he said."

"There has been another one."

Jim halted and turned to face the Vulcan, "That never sounds promising in our line of work."

"My conclusion also."

He bit his lip; they had not come here to get involved in Kandra's problems and he didn't want anyone to feel like they were butting in on something that had nothing to do with them, "Well… it's probably nothing too serious, if it were they would have told us anyway – the whole no privacy deal. Most likely they just don't want to go bothering us with trivial matters."

"Perhaps…" But Spock didn't sound convinced, although really the Vulcan seemed to get over-paranoid about a lot of things.

Jim took his elbow and began to lead them back on their original route, "Look, we're only here until tomorrow – if they have an issue there'll let us know, otherwise we should leave it be; we don't want to give the impression we're some kind of Federation police force."

"There is hardly any comparison, for one I am not an android."

"Many would think differently."

"Doctor McCoy's opinion is not important."

"What is _up_ with you two?"

"I believe it to be a healthy rivalry."

The Captain chuckled, "That gives me the image of you with an evil beard and him with an evil laboratory sitting around planning how to deliver your next attack on the other."

"It is clear who the conqueror would be."

"Ah but it'd depend how many people on the ship would side with you; obviously Bones would have all the medical staff, plus Scotty because I think they've taken a liking to each other – and then you'd already have quite a lead with the sheer number of scientists since they'd have to support you seeing how you're their commanding officer, plus you'd have Uhura so she'd bring with her the rest of –" Jim's hypothetical babble cut off as his mind lead on a tangent, "Man I totally didn't think – you probably want to go and meet up with her while we're on this semi-shore leave section of the visit, if you've got plans seriously you can head off."

Spock took a mille-second to refocus on the conversation; he had attuned to sensing when the Captain was starting to turn onto a nonsensical topic so he could accordingly switch off, but he blinked at the man's comment, "Do not worry yourself, there has been no such arrangement – furthermore I believe she was to be preoccupied after the feast, I heard from a crew member that herself and Mr Scott had discussed observing the local area."

Jim's step faltered at the reply but he quickly recovered; there had been no indication of frustration or anxiousness in the Vulcan's tone - not that it was easy to read - however if it were him the news of his girlfriend and other guy exploring a new planet together on their social time wouldn't be amazing, "Um… I would have thought _you _and Uhura would go looking around together."

"Logical, however I have the duty of accommodating our host, which we may have been doing for an extended period of time if he had not been called away," He replied as his eyes scanned the details of the carvings in the arch they were stepping through, he species did have a strong appreciation for arts despite their focus on knowledge.

"Yeah, I get that… I just mean," Jim fumbled with the words to say, he really didn't want to get in the middle of someone's relationship but the Vulcan seemed so _naïve_ right now, "You know – I haven't actually seen you and Uhura hanging out since we set off nearly a month ago."

"We both have had substantial workloads."

"But she still seems to find time to see -" _Scotty_, "… Everyone else."

Spock abruptly stopped and shifted so he was blocking the man's path, an expression in his eyes that Jim hadn't seen since they were in the middle of the Nero incident and were about to beam onto the Romulan's ship, "I do not believe this topic to be any of your business."

He lifted his hands up in front of his chest, "You're right man – sorry."

The Vulcan offered a nod of acceptance and just as swiftly continued walking as if nothing had occurred.

They remained at the constant pace in silence for exactly 3.6 seconds until a smirk slid onto Jim's face and he drawled,

"Hey, whose evil team do you think _I'd_ be on?"

* * *

Sulu was doing his best to ignore the Russian kid who was planted on a wall excessively sighing; as they'd been exploring the resident area he had spotted a collection of beautiful silk-textured bushes and just had to take a closer examination – his friend didn't hold the same excitement.

"Ve have been here for twenty minutes, I want to see more than a pile of leaves!" Chekov whined, his legs childishly banging against the stones he occupied.

"Just another minute," He disconnectedly hummed, "I wonder if they're naturally cream or if the Kandrians paint them to match the light theme?"

"I know – why don't we go and find a local to ask them."

Sulu turned his head to throw a glare, "Do you have any patience?"

"Do you have a plant fetish?" He retorted in a mocking tone.

The pilot growled and pushed out of his crouch, storming down one of the streets but making sure to whack the kid over the head so he fell into a heap on the ground with a feminine cry; he loved the guy but moments like this he was reminded that he _had_ decided to make friends with a seventeen year old.

"Hey!" Chekov shouted at his friend's back, scrambling off the ground and jogging to catch up, "So where we going now?"

Sulu rolled his eyes and wanted to hit himself for letting the light grin grace his features; his friend may be a pain in the backside but he flicked to bubbly boy so quickly it was an impossible task to stay angry at him, "Well are you hungry yet?"

He groaned at the memory of the five course feast he'd finished over four hours ago, "No – I don't think I ever want to eat again after that."

"You said the food was amazing."

"It was, but after five plates plus side dishes my stomach was not as appreciative."

Sulu laughed and nudged his chest, "That's what you get for asking to do something so you can talk to a pretty girl."

"What! I wasn't – I… there weren't –"

He tapped the kid's gaping mouth shut and smirked, "Denial is the first sign."

"Sarah is just a friend."

"So it's not Officer Parsons – look at you already moving onto first names."

"You call me Pavel; do you have a confession to make?"

"Man, don't put nasty images into my head!"

"Then stop teasing me about Sarah!"

"Somebody's defensive."

"Somebody's about to get punched."

"Wait," Sulu put a hand out to stop his friend and he glanced around, "Where are we?"

Chekov followed suit, switching off their arguing at the pilot's tone; last time he'd looked he had known the route back to the halls however he hadn't kept track of the streets they'd been turning down and now they all looked the same.

"Vell there are the halls," He gestured to the looming buildings in the distance.

"Yes I know that – you can see them from miles away," Sulu retorted, "But I don't know how to get to them."

The young Russian turned around, they seemed to have wandered right to the edge of the resident area because a few feet away was an electronic force-field cutting off the wilderness which lay a mile onwards where the air wasn't suitable – you could breathe it, but you'd probably only last a few hours at the most before too much nitrogen clouded your lungs.

"I guess if we just head in that general direction we'll get their eventually – it'll give you a chance to walk off that food."

Chekov provided a small chuckle but his eyes were squinting at a far point in the desert wasteland, he'd thought he had seen something moving for a second…

He shrugged it off; there was nothing but dead trees and sand out there, spinning around he slapped his friend's back, "It's not me who needs to be walking off food."

The kid was sprinting before Sulu had a chance to recognise the insult but a few seconds later he was on his heels shouting abuse at the disappearing teenager.

In the end it turned out that running off and falling into a wrestling match wasn't helpful for working out directions; they became even more lost and after absently wandering around for two hours were considering just being asked to get beamed up since it was starting to get dark.

However luckily they bumped into a local who was more than happy to lead them onto the right path – they also ran across Scotty and Uhura on the way who'd been having trouble with the identical streets as well so on finally entering through the main gate they were a good collection.

"Can we make an agreement to _not_ tell people about this," Sulu asked as the door to the lounge room they'd been informed the Captain, McCoy and Spock were in came into view.

Scotty chuckled, "You two are navigators! How did yer even get lost?"

"You're in charge of the transporter – you should know about directions too," The young Russian protested.

"Nay cause that's simply co-ordinates, it's got nothing to do with maps and such."

"Okay boys," Uhura interjected, "We all got lost – deal with it," But she turned to the pilot and offered a smile, gently adding, "Although there's no reason for other people to find out."

Sulu ducked his head at the attention with a grin playing on his lips; he wondered if she was dating the Commander, he'd heard rumours about it but he'd never actually seen them together – and she was so beautiful.

He bit back a cry as Chekov stomped on his foot as he if knew what he'd been thinking.

Nobody else noticed and the kid had already squeezed in front of the other two as they entered the room so he couldn't retaliate, he instead settled with a muttered curse and a slight limp.

It was a relatively compact area, it was attached to the Shanma so breaks could be taken from political discussions and apparently each hall had one similar; in the two far corners were a collection of soft fabric seats and sofas - most planets seemed to have invented the comfy furniture – and then a number of tables and stools were scattered around the remaining space.

At the centre of the room was a sofa curved around half of a finely woven glass table facing the door and here was where their three friends sat; Spock sat on one end, his spine straight, eyes closed and hands clasped in his lap, McCoy was on the other end with his legs stretched up on the fabric although the top half of his body leant over as he was in a lively conversation with Jim who was on the floor leaning against the Vulcan's legs.

Chekov was surprised at the sight, he wouldn't have thought the Commander would allow someone to use him as a back-rest in such a casual manner – although thinking about it the two senior officers had been a lot more lenient with contact the past few days, the Vulcan would normally throw out his death glare to anyone who entered his personal boundaries too much but the young navigator hadn't seen any such rebuke towards the Captain… perhaps Spock had already tried but failed to halt the man's tactile ways so had instead given in to the circumstances.

"Evening guys," Uhura greeted as herself and Scotty pulled up two chairs next to the doctor; Sulu took one near Jim and seeing the Captain on the floor, of course the young Russian plonked down on the carpeted ground as well – waving off the pilots hand as he scrubbed his hair that he had now put in the direct path of the revengeful man.

The Vulcan's eyes snapped open at the voice, although he would have heard them before they'd even entered the room and the two old friends broke their conversation to turn to the arrivals.

"Everyone found their way back then," Jim stated, shifting his body to angle towards the rest of the group meaning he was now practically nestled between the Vulcan's legs.

"Yes, but we actually got very lost on the – ow!" Chekov titled his head back to glare at his friend.

McCoy smirked at the pilot's flustered face, "Aren't you a navigator?"

Scotty burst out laughing as Sulu rubbed a hand over his face muttering 'For goodness sake' and the kid had the sudden understanding to look guilty for breaking his friend's request of silence on the matter.

"Yeah K'Son told us that visitors often get lost because they've painted all the buildings and streets the same colour," Jim chuckled, "Is it nice out there though?"

"It's beautiful," Uhura replied as she took down her hair to readjust the style to something more comfortable now they were basically off-duty, "It's really amazing how they can use only mild shades yet make the area so unique and captivating – we found this one street which had an intricate marble-like material sculpture using a large amount of various shades of the same cream colour so that even though it was a dull tone it actually looked really colourful in its own way."

"Aye and the design was something to see as well," The engineer added, holding out a hand for Uhura to place her hair clips.

"Didn't you guys get a chance to look?" Sulu asked.

McCoy leant back, swinging an arm over the sofa head and stretching out his body so his reply came under a low groan, "I was cooped up in this places medical bay all day."

Jim glanced up, "Oh you loved it."

"Yeah but don't tell them that," He mock whispered, gesturing towards his colleagues, "I'm working the grumpy vibe."

"You have to work for it?"

He caught the cushion that was directed at his head.

Passing it to Chekov to place behind his back as he was having a hard time getting comfortable against Sulu's legs he continued, "And Spock and I were on a grand tour of the halls – which were magnificent in themselves weren't they."

Jim tilted his head back on the last words but the Vulcan only gave an agreeing nod; he was currently completely drained of energy – it seemed the thirty minute meditation he could manage and unknown nights playing chess in the Captain's quarters only provided his sleep deprived body with enough to make it through a certain time span.

That was the reasoning that he had not requested the man at his legs to change his positioning when other people had entered, it was only the comforting contact that was preventing him from fully collapsing at the moment.

"How far do they go along?" Sulu asked.

"Roughly 3 miles," Scotty drawled, "Must make good for exercise."

Jim ducked his head to hide a smirk as he heard Spock's correction whisper of '2.8 miles'; the Vulcan had been strangely quiet for the past hour but that didn't mean he could sit there and allow inaccurate statistics to be spoken.

"Although I wonder how they do all that walking with the formal cloaks," Uhura added, "They don't wear them normally but it's mandatory if you enter the halls."

Chekov suddenly perked and his bubbly voice entered the conversation, "You know the tradition of veering cloaks for formal occasions was started in Russia –"

Everyone groaned at the kid's topic which turned to laughter when he sulkily crossed his arms and pouted because nobody was listening to him.

Within the humour Uhura's gaze drifted over to the Vulcan, her position remained fixed for a moment and she bit her lip; she'd been trying to talk to Spock for the last few days as there was something they really needed to discuss, on internal debate she leant forward in meaning to quietly ask if they could withdraw somewhere in private.

"Excuse the interruption –" Bones jumped and let out a lovely yelp when a voice sounded behind his shoulder and the communications officer slid back in her chair.

"Man! You can't just sneak up on some – oh I mean um…"

"K'Son," Jim recovered for his flustered friend, not that it wasn't funny seeing the gruff man embarrassingly wringing his hands, "It's no problem, is everything okay?"

"Not quite," He replied, offering an apologetic nod to the doctor, "I am very sorry but I must request that we don't do the re-signing of the contract tomorrow but the next day; there is a situation that I must deal with that unfortunately holds a higher urgency."

Spock was not focused on their host but instead the walls placed behind him from the direction he had emerged, there were no visible doors – he usually prided himself in working out secret entrances in four seconds or less however this building was done to a standard of perfection; he could notice no disguised hinges or bulks on the wall… it was strangely irking.

"No that's fine – I understand stuff can come up when you don't want it to," Jim replied, standing up and smoothing out his uniform as he realised that lounging on the floor whilst leaning against his First Officer probably didn't look that professional, "Is there anything we can do to help?"

"No." The reply was very sharp but K'Son then continued at a normal tone, "I do not wish to burden you with our personal affairs," He stepped around the sofa to address the whole group, "Feel free to remain here as long as you wish and once again tomorrow you may use all our facilities – I do apologise for this inconvenience."

This time he exited through the main visible door and once it closed the crew members turned to each other and started discussing what kind of problem the Kandrian's must have, if they'd get another feast and what other areas they'd like to visit.

However Jim turned to look down at Spock, their eyes meeting and both holding the same question.

_What was a being who didn't believe in privacy hiding from them?_

* * *

A/N: Okay this is where I give a maybe apology, so far all the chapters were already written over the summer holidays, however on returning to education time has rapidly decreased so from now I am in the process of writing.

But wait! The next chapter is nearly finished - so if you're lucky (and I'm quick) that'll stick to the Monday update trend - however basically I'm saying from now just be prepared that a new chapter may not come _exactly_ every Monday... give room for a little le-way.

But don't worry - this fic will never be abandoned... the storylines sorted, its just needs to actually be put onto paper... or computer screen.

_Anyway hope you enjoyed, drop a review if you can :)_


	7. Chess

**Casual Contact**

**A/N: **I really love you guys - thank you for all the amazing reviews and for favouriting/following! Finally got this next one done so hope you enjoy :)

* * *

Two unplanned days had now passed on Kandra after K'Son had adjusted the signing, since when the time had come he'd requested to move it forward yet another day, apologising that the incident – while under control because no they respectfully did not require help – still had a few last details to mandate.

It was a pleasant surprise for the crew, as the original allocated stay on Kandra only allowed half of the officers to take the invitation to visit the planet whereas now the diplomatic mission had become a brief shore leave. However for the two senior members the extension was creating an uneasy feeling in their guts; which was supported by the doctor when Jim began pacing around the medical bay with Spock standing in silence against the far wall ranting about how suspicious it all looked – not that it was hard to get a grumpy cynical man to agree that somebody may not be trustworthy.

Yet this was not a main priority for the Vulcan; his condition was rapidly deteriorating as the hours passed and he was aware that his body was now working within a limited time frame with a result of a complete collapse that could potentially have lasting medical effects. It was not that he purposefully refused sleep; he knew it had become an urgent health requirement however it was still unattainable.

The thirty-eight minute daily meditation he could sustain now had little gratification for providing energy to his system and although his association of rest with the Captain meant he felt a small amount of weight lifted so his body did not shut-down even this was presenting signs of reducing.

For once he could not invent a solution… plus over six weeks of consciousness did little for the imagination.

Spock was currently on course to one of the halls secluded gardens, ignoring the dizziness circling his head, he had been with the Captain handling a dispute between two crew members who'd become marginally intoxicated but when the man had told of his plans to meet some of the engineering team and look around the Vulcan had decided to back out. For his comfort and health it would have been logical to join however earlier in the day the Captain had made a teasing comment about the half-human's sudden 'clinginess' so he felt it appropriate to extract his presence for a short amount of time.

He was hoping that the garden would allow some extra meditation; it was a very natural environment with a gentle collection of foliage decorated by a hand-carved fountain, a much more suitable setting to attempt to regain energy rather than a tight box in space.

Settling cross-legged on a marble bench under a tree in the far corner he closed his eyes and began to lower his breathing pattern; usually the senses of the surrounding atmosphere would now start to dim as his mind wandered into a state of trance but once again nothing was happening – it was a torture to be desperate for sleep yet unable to achieve it.

Although it was apparent there would be no solution in the facility, the environment was more pleasing than the cold walls of the Enterprise so the Vulcan remained in his position; though he could not gain the reward of rest he may as well take advantage of the silence.

"Spock," If he did not have an image to uphold he would have allowed a prolonged sigh to the feminine voice that ill-timely arrived; however instead he merely opened his eyes, "Oh sorry – I didn't mean to interrupt."

"There is no need to apologise."

Uhura gave him a gentle smile; she was a figure of beauty among the pale backdrop, with leaves brushing her shoulder and white flowers peeking from beneath her feet one could have mistaken her as a muse for an artist, "Where have you been the past few days – I've been trying to find you."

"My time has been given to events that required the Captain's assistance," It wasn't a lie, however he did feel a sense of discomfort for not admitting all the details so he cut topic, "I hope you are having a pleasurable recreational experience on this planet."

Her eyes lit as she rushed to sit on the bench and gush, "Oh it's been amazing – the cultural aspects alone are fascinating! I've spent quite a lot of time enquiring whether the pale shades of the surrounding environment are natural or where genetically adapted to match the Kandrian's appearances."

Spock lips curved upwards and his gaze softened at the woman's excitement; her joy for the knowledge of other planets customs and history was one of their main compatibilities as it was these conversations that had originally led them to spend prolonged amounts of time in one another's company.

"… So Scotty and I searched out various scientists when Leonard got us in the medical centre – he's hardly out of that place – and it turns out they did alter the DNA patterns of the foliage so the colours matched their desire to have the eyes as the focus of their civilisation."

At the mention of the engineer his features diverted back to a neutral setting; for the past month he may have not been handing a large percentage of attention to his romantic arrangement with Nyota because he had… and currently still has issues of vaster quantity filling his mind.

However he had not failed to notice the increasing duration of time she had been spending in Mr Scott's presence as their own hours together had lessened – he had not considered much to the information before yet now it seemed slightly… disconcerting.

"It sounds informative," Spock replied with a dip of his head.

A silence stretched across them as they both sat, gazes turned in opposite directions examining different points of the garden; it was not an awkward silence that needed to be filled, yet it was not a comfortable one that would apply to two people who didn't require conversation to experience each other's company.

Minutes passed with the gentle rustle of leaves and distance tapping of shoes from within the halls long corridors when finally Nyota ran her tongue across her lip and glanced at the Vulcan, "So… how are you?"

It was a soothing tone; a voice that would make many a person release a painful gasp of grief and collapse into its owners arms in the knowledge that it was a safe place to work through their emotions and begin to overcome the struggles.

However these people wouldn't be Spock.

"I am adequate," He felt as if he was at least being partially truthful by using the term 'adequate' instead of 'well', "I trust you are also of good health."

He missed the deflation in her eyes at his response, "Yeah I'm good," A grim smile etched over her features and she shook her head, "You know what – actually, no… no I'm not fine."

Spock's brow dipped and he turned to face the young woman, "Nyota, if there is something troubling you then I wish to be of assistance."

"You mean like the thing that's troubling you?" She shot back.

His eyes flicked from the sharp gaze she sent.

"How could you think I wouldn't notice that you've looked off since we started this year mission," There was concern laced in the tone but it seemed she had built up excessive frustration in the month they hadn't been fully communicating and currently this emotion was winning dominance, "We hardly see each other but when we_ do_ it isn't long before you run off to find some work to complete – and even then our discussions mainly consist of chatter I've been translating or an experiment you're scientists are planning… we're not _talking_ anymore Spock."

Her eyes desperately scanned over the side of the Vulcan's face searching for any sign of emotion driven response; a raised eyebrow, downwards glance, slight tilt… anything.

Spock remained angled in eye-line to the central tree, he could hear the hurt in Nyota's voice and he could not bring himself to look upon the pain he had caused; once there had been a time that any troubles he had would be discussed with the young woman however this was a topic on a completely different level – he was suffering every second and talking just to satisfy the earth society laws of the principal of expectance to share within romantic arrangements would do nothing to bring back his moth…

A sharp pain slashed through his head; the conversation was causing him great distress and in his sleep deprived state his body was beginning to take the consequences. Of course he desired the ability to take Nyota's offer and hope that she would be able to lessen his torment, but in truth she was a being who hadn't even considered asking him about his personal boundaries throughout the years of their acquaintance – she had the assumption that because she attained substantial grades in the study of the Vulcan species there was no information she was not aware of.

She had subconsciously categorised him into a general Vulcan frame rather than an individual person.

There was a recognition of guilt as these thoughts passed through his mind, he held great affection for Nyota, he was aware she was one of the kindest humans he had met yet how could he feel comfortable conversing on deeply personal matters when his body urged to flinch at her contact.

So regrettably, for once Spock purposely pretended he did not understand what was being alliterated, "Indeed we have been conversing less frequently since boarding the Enterprise however I do not believe we have not been talking at all."

An unnoticeable strain laced his tone as the pounding in his head continued and he did not witness Nyota's reaction to his reply as he was concentrating on taking lingering breaths to attempt to relinquish the pain.

"That's not what I –" She bit down on her lip to stop herself from shouting, "I just – I don't think I can do this."

The Vulcan's gaze drew up at the defeated sigh, following her path as she left the bench and moved to idly run her fingers though the central tree leaves, her back turned to him.

"Spock," As she forced herself to look he could see the mist in her eyes, "I think we should take a break from seeing each other."

His headache suddenly disappeared as his body froze at the sentence he wished he didn't understand, "You desire to end our romantic arrangement?"

Nyota was drowned by guilt at the vulnerability of his tone and the wideness of his innocent brown orbs' so had to turn away again. She wasn't attempting to be cruel, she knew Spock hadn't been himself since his mother and planet died but it was clear for this there was no help she could offer when he wouldn't let her.

It was her hope that this torturing decision would allow him an opportunity to recover; perhaps if he didn't feel the duty of their relationship he'd open up – if not to her then to someone else.

She just couldn't stand to see the over-whelming grief each time she looked into his eyes.

As he had replied the seconds after the destruction when she had grabbed him in the elevator and begged to be told what she could do to help 'I need everyone to continue performing admirably.'

So that's what she would try to do.

"No I don't want to end it – just have a temporary separation; go back to just being friends for a bit and then see what happens from there."

There was a stretch of silence; a gentle breeze separating two people who were trying their best but didn't know how to handle the recent situations surrounding them.

Eventually Spock stood up, straightened his shirt and uttered one word, "Indeed," Before exiting the garden he had sought for hope of meditation without a glance to the young woman with a tear stroking her cheek.

Watching him leave – she had no idea if she'd done the right thing.

* * *

Spock was unaware of his destination; he did not know how long he had been travelling the array of corridors and he had no desire to obtain the knowledge.

Nyota's request seemed to be yet another pain to torture him – was he being punished for feeling grief for his mother and planet by having more stolen?

The knives stabbing his mind were growing in intensity with each step and from the white tinged pale blue eyes that he had noticed following him a few metres behind it was clear a Kandrian had concern for his losing ability to walk in a straight line.

Not wishing to be questioned Spock turned into the next corridor and pushed himself behind a pillar, his hearing was giving main fuel to his headache so he instead relied on waiting to witness the Kandrian pass by before sliding onto the marble floor and curling into himself.

He could not think, he saw Nyota's face – her words gushing through his mind; his mother's outstretched hand and cry as she disappeared with the rocks – pain, his head – pain, sleep… he couldn't – he needed, please –

A click of a door managed to cut through the mess and he forced his head up; he could not be found in this condition no matter how weak he felt.

" – But do not give them information on why we must once again delay the signing."

Spock paused his attempt to stand as he saw a Kandrian linger at the room entrance to hear the end of the sentence – the man was only on the other side of the pillar, if the Vulcan made effort to move he would notice and turn around.

"K'Son do you not think it wise to ask our visitors for help rather than keep them without knowledge of our –"

"I do not!" A voice, apparently K'Son's, barked to the man, "They are not of our planet and therefore this is none of their concern – please deliver the message and nothing more."

The pale being's eyes briefly flashed a dark purple but once again reverted back to the peaceful olive-green as he offered a small bow, "Of course."

Spock tensed as the man released the door however fortunately he did not turn in his direction and instead headed off down the corridor.

_It seemed their host was indeed keeping information from them._

He had to inform the Captain…

The walls swayed as he dragged his body off the floor and once again his head didn't appreciate the rise in altitude; if his body was an individual specimen he would berate it for its lack of logic – he was aware he needed sleep however whenever he attempted anything close to this he was fought against and yet he was still made to suffer the consequences.

Drawing in a long breath he stepped into the corridor once more, it was going to be a task to find the transport room however all he needed to find was the connecting corridor that ran through all twelve halls and it would be simple to find his path from that point.

As he travelled his focus was projected on putting one foot in front of the other without collapsing, so he almost missed the same Kandrian who had been walking behind him earlier rise from a bench and process to shadow him again.

A minute ago Spock would have considered this behaviour to simply be a concerned individual who due to customs couldn't help wanting to dig into a situation that did not concern him; yet now the Vulcan's suspicions were turning on and even with a failing body he could still sense the need for caution.

He turned the next corner, made an expression to implicate he had not gone the direction he wished and re-entered the same corridor to continue in his original direction – his tail completed the same action.

If the Vulcan had been under better health he would have used a method to determine whether he was being followed that didn't involve giving away that he knew this was the case because now the man was increasing his pace; but in his present condition it was an achievement enough that he had noticed the Kandrian to begin with.

Spock was aware that he had no means to lose the man without reverting into a sprint; which would not only be highly impossible due to his current low levels of balance but very undignified in the surrounding environment – his health may be deteriorating but that did not mean his standards must as well.

He came to a sudden halt and turned on his heel, "What are –"

The words were cut off by a young female Kandrian who appeared from an adjacent corridor the Vulcan had paused at and placed herself in his front view, "Commander! I have been searching for you, I hoped that we could talk in reference to your species – such things are my passion and it's not often we get visits from different civilisations."

Spock inclined his head to her flurry of speech however his gaze did not break from his shadow whose eyes had taken on a blackened rim at the interruption; and they did not release until the man had fully turned around and walked back in the direction he had come, slipping down a side corridor after a few strides.

"That's wonderful, I am most grateful! With your permission especially it is a privilege – of course we know a high amount about the Terran but a Vulcan is not one we have had the opportunity to study before," She was practically bouncing as her eyes sparkled a vibrant yellow shade, although Spock didn't appreciate being referred to as if a scientific specimen.

"Indeed, however I must speak to my Captain at this moment – perhaps we could meet at a later time," He had managed to regain strength over his fatigue once more but not enough to deal with an energetic Kandrian; also after his near encounter his distrust levels had risen to quite a degree.

"But absolutely," She continued, "I understand, although if I could just ask one thing that's been burning my mind before you leave I'd be most grateful."

He had a sense that if he did not comply, the eager scientist would most likely follow him back to the ship for an answer so he provided a nod of agreement as his eyes covertly scanned the immediate surroundings.

"Thank you!" If those eyes got any brighter there was a chance she would blind someone, "Obviously I heard of your planets destruction –"

She didn't notice the tension that snapped through his spine at her comment so in her customs manner continued to speak in an insensitive form, " –and clearly nearly all of your race died, most likely including a number of your own family so I was wondering how your people are planning to ensure a firm repopulation growth."

As known, Vulcan's eyes did not change colour according to emotion, yet from the quickening darkening of the young woman's pupils and the step she took back it was clear Spock did not require this trait to make his feelings prominent.

He could barely control his urge to damage the Kandrian for her flippant words, the stress of his body did not allow for any logic to argue that she was not attempting to cause offense with her way of being and he was hardly aware that he had moved forward to loom over her.

"I apologise," She gushed, her pupils melting into a pale blue, "I did not mean to anger or upset you, please… I forgot that you are not as open-spoken as my people… I wish you to except my condolences for your loss."

Her tone had softened and she reflected true concern, the race were not a heartless one – just naturally tactless on discussing topics.

However due to his mental health, rising suspicion and now anger he momentarily forgot about the species custom of sharing grief so therefore he only recognised the woman's action as he felt her fingers meet his palm.

The copied despair the Kandrian had mimicked in intention to show she was aware of the pain he was experiencing instead slammed into his mind – all of his own mess he had so far managed to reign under control but the wave of further paining emotions was too much and he pushed away, stumbling with wide, panicked eyes at the shocked woman.

Once again he found himself roaming the corridors, except this time he was running; at each corner he skidded against the wall, he may have crashed into a couple of locals but he was not aware of any of it.

At some point his surroundings melted from the stone cream bricks and wide windows to the neutral greys of the Enterprise but his legs continued guiding him on automatic - all whilst his head kept screaming.

"Spock!"

There was a barking voice, a pressure on his arm.

"Spock!"

His back slammed against a solid barrier.

"Dammit man! Stop trying to run, you look like you're going to pass out."

A hand brushed his chin and he jerked away, his eyes rising to meet the unusually concerned face of Dr McCoy.

"I'm taking you to the medical bay," The man stated on the lack of verbal abuse he was getting for entering the Vulcan's personal space.

Spock felt his body being guided in the wrong direction to his destination and he attempted to communicate this but no sound left his mouth as it opened; briefly closing his eyes he reigned in his breathing and re-tried, "No, I must speak to the Captain."

The normal authority levels didn't lie beneath the tone, however the words managed to come out without seeming like he could barely remember how to speak.

"Well Jim's asleep right now meaning you have plenty of time to get a check-up first," McCoy replied, throwing a watchful eye as something didn't sound quite right with the workaholic's voice.

The Vulcan pushed off the arm under his elbow and took a couple of steps back; it was the most he could do without stumbling.

"Why would the Captain be asleep at this hour?"

The vibrations in his head when speaking had an effect similar to being stabbed with multiple needles simultaneously and it wasn't much better when his ears had to pick up the sounds of another person's voice – but his neutral expression was still holding.

"He hasn't been getting enough the past few days despite having nothing to do so I ordered him into bed for a few hours," He folded his arms and carefully looked the Commander up and down, standing there in the middle of the corridor at first glance he seemed fine – but McCoy could tell there was definitely something wrong, "Just like I'm now ordering _you_ to get your pointy ears into the medical bay."

"I will be sure to accommodate your request when I am next available," He replied with losing control to start screaming at the pain and grief lashing inside his mind.

"Look Spock," The doctor stepped forward but paused as in return the Vulcan took one away, sighing he swept his fingers through his hair, "I know we're not really friends and don't get along – and most of the time can't even handle being in the same room for extended periods of time… but I am your doctor. Plus I do actually care about what happens to you so I'm asking – please, let me check to see if you're alright."

A flash of guilt managed to distinguish itself among the turmoil and Spock cast his gaze down, he understood that the doctor was trying to help but he was not suffering any physical injury and not even a man as skilled as Dr McCoy could heal his problem – he could provide drugs for artificial sleep but he was relatively certain this would give no long term solution… he just wanted to be allowed to break in private.

"Your concern is appreciated but not required," Spock answered, turning to continue on his original path.

Softly he added, "Your assistance would have no effect."

McCoy frowned and began to follow however his conn suddenly beeped; he looked between the device and the corner the Vulcan has disappeared down a couple of times before growling and snapping open the communicator, rushing in the opposite direction as a nurse hurriedly relayed him information.

* * *

A few more corridors and Spock stumbled through the doors as they recognised him; he didn't even have the capability to move to a chair and simply collapsed against the wall – legs curled into his body, arms tensed and encasing his head as it pierced, screamed and tortured.

He had been managing until that Kandrian woman had gone and sprung his grief open in a vast flood… he had been attempting to fight his body's deterioration without the need of the Captain's comforting presence and he had been succeeding to a degree before Nyota – until she had said those things; and of course that had left him fully open when the sympathetic custom had been passed.

His head crashed back against the wall in a weak attempt to shut off the knives.

There was a light rustle which somehow the Vulcan's ears picked up and he forced open one eye, the second quickly followed when he made the connection of what he was seeing.

Although he could vaguely sort through his mind to remember he had originally wanted to find the Captain for some reason, he was certain in his pain his desire had mainly changed to escaping public space so he could not be witnessed in his current state – however the sleeping man on the bed gave hint to the fact that these were not his own quarters.

Beginning to realise where he was he started urging his breaths to lighten, focusing on the concept that he was safe in this environment; no communications officers or Kandrians would be entering – this was a neutral area.

After 26.7 minutes, the fact he was aware of the time amount in itself indicating he had once again gained some control; Spock had pushed the pain back to a persistent yet dull throb and had straightened out from his near foetal position.

Gently he rose from the floor and made his way to the chess board that had become his salvation for the past few nights, his movements were very vulnerable and child-like – arms wrapped around his torso and once sitting, shoulders hunched with his chin almost tucked into his chest.

There was no tactic behind the placement of the pieces tonight, he was too drained to motivate a challenge so his fingers only slid basic manoeuvres as the familiar action stirred the similar sensation of meditation and the muscles in his body began to loosen.

His hand hovered over the white knight with intent to take a pawn when suddenly the horse figurine rose from its square to the board's second level and removed a rook instead.

Spock's gaze snapped up to meet the light blue eyes of the room's official owner.

If not for the lack of lighting a green tinge would have been very apparent on the Vulcan's cheeks; the Captain had been fast asleep, _should_ be fast asleep… to be found playing chess unannounced in the man's quarters was in violation of a quantity of privacy regulations and not to mention vastly unprofessional as well as in admittance to his human half – embarrassing.

Despite not knowing how to begin apologising for his intrusion, he opened his mouth in need to say something; however the Captain lightly shook his head before words could form.

"It's your move."

Spock frowned at the casual statement, as if they were playing an arranged game rather than one involving an intruding visitor; clearly it was evident through his expression he was about to attempt to explain again because the young Captain nudged the board.

"Come on, you're losing."

Following another mille-second of confusion the Vulcan decided to accept the strange turn of events and made his next move; the game lasted longer than it would have if he had continued playing against himself but since he had begun by using only basic actions and routes it could still only last a short period of time.

Once the senior officer won, which was not surprising since Spock hadn't been playing to his true extent, he set the pieces up for another match; this round he took the first turn and from the position he chose to move it was evident the young man wanted a challenge.

The Captain was a startlingly skilled player and the Vulcan found himself forgetting about his headaches, body's near collapse and grief as he became pulled into the need to not be beaten at his mastered game.

It was not until they were both staring intently at the board, analysing strategic courses of action and consequences to take out their opponent when the young man's voice sounded again.

"I know you've been coming in here the past few nights to do this," He revealed; no accusation in the tone, just a whispered fact – it would feel wrong to speak at a normal level in the dark.

"I –" Spock didn't look up but he sensed a glare for his intendment to apologise, "… I was under the impression you were asleep."

Jim dropped his gaze when the sentence altered its route, "I was the first time – I noticed the chess pieces weren't where I left them the next morning, I didn't think much of it but my subconscious must have hit something because I woke up when you came through the adjoined door the following night."

"Why did you not make me aware of your consciousness?"

He shrugged, "You looked like you needed to be alone."

"Then why inform me now?"

"Because sometimes people shouldn't be alone," The man replied, knocking out the opponent bishop.

Spock paused and glanced up at his friend, he may feel singularly comfortable in his presence but that didn't mean he wished for him to have been a witness to his scene of raw emotion, "For how long have you been awake?"

"Just when you sat down at the table," A dip had formed between his brows at the returning move of a knight, "I peeked over and noticed you seemed… off, it seemed company was better than solitude this time."

The Vulcan released an internal sigh of relief on hearing he hadn't been compromised, but he also felt a wave of gratitude overcome his senses for the depths of concern being shown – it was not a common occurrence for him.

"Your observance is most appreciated."

"Hey, we're best buds remember," He grinned throwing a wink, "Although don't mention that in front of Bones."

"I am not a fool," Spock replied, feeling the side of his lip twitch upwards.

They lapsed into silence for another period as a string of trick manoeuvres were pulled on each side, involving multiple switches between board levels but eventually the Vulcan gained the upper hand.

"So," Jim softly questioned, "Having trouble sleeping?"

Three more moves passed, the second in which the Captain took out another opponent, before an answer was given, "There are some… occasional difficulties."

It was not that he did not trust the man with full enclosure of his negative condition, more that there was the awareness that by informing of his extreme sleep deprivation and growing symptoms emerging due to it, as a commanding officer and general human, he would report him to the medical bay where he would be injected with multiple drugs which would submerge him into an extended unconsciousness and leave him trapped in the painful images he was sure were waiting in his mind.

It was not a desired option.

"How come?"

Spock faltered at this, he had never spoken the words of the event haunting him out loud – he was unsure if he was even able to.

Once more Jim seemed to sense the Vulcan's thoughts and his voice spread to a softer level, "Images of your mother and your planet?"

He could nod in response.

"It's not your fault, you did everything you could – more than a lot of people would have done," He added.

The Captain's queen was knocked off the table.

Jim sighed and leant to pick it up, rolling it through his fingers as he straightened back, "You're having trouble meditating as well then?"

The Vulcan's eyes lay on the object in the man's hand, he had made a mistake, he should have taken the rook instead of the queen, "Sessions have become shorter."

To a level of practical non-existence but his words were still technically true.

Jim placed the queen on the table and dropped his chin into his hand, "Have you found some alternative methods?"

"Indeed."

Silence as Spock moved defence around his king.

The young man swallowed and moved a bishop forward, "When I was really little I was such a clingy child, whoever I met – no matter if it was a stranger my mum stopped to ask the time – I would tug on their arm, give them a hug, demand to be picked up."

He smiled at the memory, "As you can imagine she wasn't too happy about my lack of caution towards people I didn't know."

"Anyway, when I was older she signed back up to Starfleet for missions – and not just little fly-out kind of things I mean proper two, three year trips; I never found out why she decided staying at home with her children wasn't good enough anymore… my older brother Sam said it was because as I grew I looked more and more like my dad – but maybe she legitimately just really missed space."

Spock's last rook was taken, "We were left living with our step-dad and he definitely wasn't the kind of guy who'd let a kid go giving him hugs – so I restrain my tactile nature around him. The problem was with this guy we lived out in the middle of nowhere so I didn't get to hang out with any kids my age – I just had my brother. Then when we'd go into town now and then I found that unlike when I was little I felt a bit uncomfortable around all the strangers, not so much that I wanted to leave or anything… just it was a bit weird."

The piece in his hand slid the Vulcan's king from its square, "It was only when I had my brother next to me that I felt at ease – maybe because I saw him as my safe zone, maybe cause he was the person I knew accepted me… there could have been loads of reasons; but I knew that sometimes… I just needed to be in his presence for a bit."

Spock's eyes slid from where his king lay on its side and rose to meet the pair of blue orbs; the sheer level of understanding this normal human had managed to pick out was quite staggering and furthermore the hidden 'I know being around me seems to relax you, don't worry, if it helps that's fine' was an unimaginable acceptance.

Their gaze held for a couple of seconds; then the Vulcan dipped his head with a barely noticeable smile which the Captain returned with his own warm expression.

Who said men couldn't understand subtlety.

"Anyway," Jim grinned, his voice rising to a normal tone as he leant back in his chair, ending the moment, "Then I became a bratty, rebel teenager and drove the step-dads car off a cliff."

An eyebrow finally rose, "You drove a vehicle off a cliff?"

"Well of course I wasn't _in_ it when it fell – I jumped out before that bit."

"What logic would have you believe that the event would be a good idea?"

"I was a teenager – did I need a reason?"

"Indeed, perhaps it is too much to expect you to have had much wisdom at that age."

"Um, who just got beaten at chess?"

"Clearly I was not playing to my highest standard."

"Wow – who knew Vulcan's were sore losers."

"Do not be vacuous."

"You're getting the dictionary words out! That means you are a bad loser!"

"If we were to play again losing would not be my case."

"Oh you're on! Prepare to eat your words."

"That is physically and scientifically not possible."

"Stop stalling."

* * *

_Thank you for reading, drop a review if you can :)_


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